The Eldest Weasley
by ShunKickShunKers
Summary: What if Bill wasn't the eldest Weasley? What if he had a twin sister who supposedly died in a fire? What if he met her once his war was over, but one of hers was about to begin? Post HP7, Pre Avengers, BillFleur, Clintasha
1. Chapter 1

**I have a number of fics ongoing and I really don't need this one started. But it was on my mind and I just couldn't stop once I began. For those who read my other crossovers, I won't be updating till I'm done with Uncle From America ^^" (I've neglected that one long enough).**

 **Hope you'll enjoy this!**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **Prologue**

 _It was way past midnight when little William Weasley felt something wrong. The usual quietness of the house was perturbed by the sound of footsteps. Heavy, unfamiliar footsteps. He cautiously slipped out of bed, walked to the door and tried to eavesdrop. Perhaps it was his parents coming home, but he was pretty sure they said they wouldn't be home until early morning. And it was nowhere close to morning. The steps were faint and still away, but creeping closer to their room._

 _He quietly ran back to the large single bed and shook the other sleeping occupant awake._

" _Nana," he whispered. "Nana, wake up."_

 _The young redhead girl opened her eyes drowsily._

" _Wi-" yarn. "Willy, what's going on?"_

" _There's someone in the house." He whispered, indicating her to keep her voice low. "It's not Ellen. And it's not mom or dad. What are we going to do?"_

 _The girl seemed all of a sudden more awake. Her short hair fell over her shoulders and blue-green eyes fell on him, although he couldn't see their color in the dark._

" _You sure it's a stranger?"_

 _William nodded repetitively. He was scared. Aside from Ellen, their baby-sitter, there was no grownup around. But Nana always knew what to do. And she was always right, even when he thought she was wrong._

" _Wait here," she ordered. "Hide under the bed. I'm going to see what's going on."_

" _But Nana-" he started to protest._

" _You're no good at sneaking, Willy." She said with her usual patronizing tone. "And I'm sure it's nothing. If it's a burglar, I'll just scream and they'll go away."_

" _But-"_

 _She patted his hair like their mom did to calm him. And it usually worked. Nana was twenty minutes older than him, yet she acted and spoke like a grownup all the time, and that reassured him. This time though, he didn't like that weird feeling clenching into his tummy, that something bad was about to happen._

" _I'm your big sister. It's my job to protect you." She replied firmly and slid off the bed. She pointed the empty space under the large bed. "Now go. I'll be back right away."_

 _In spite of following his guts and pulling her down with him, William obeyed, sneaked under the bed and waited. And waited. And waited. And when she didn't return and it became clear that something had gone wrong, he cried quietly. But he was too scared to come out and see what exactly had happened. And then it started to smell funny. And it started to feel warm. And then door started to burn a bright red and yellow, and flames appearing on the frame…William whimpered as the air became hotter and crawled further back against the wall. He started having trouble breathing as smoke slowly invaded the room and evaporated towards the ceiling._

 _Suddenly, a small child's cry echoed from somewhere down the hall. William swallowed heavily; Ellen was in charge of Charlie, but she didn't seem to be there anymore. The cries became louder, now undeniably from fear and maybe hurt. And Nana still wasn't back._

 _William's whole body trembled. He knew what he should do. He should get out from under the bed. He should go in the corridor and call for help. He should…but he couldn't move._

 _The unexpected 'crack' and 'bang' helped him along his decision as half of the bed was crushed under some parts of the ceiling. William hurriedly ran into the room and realized the door was now open. Parts of the wall had crumbled, offering an escape large enough for him to go through. The air was still hot and his vision starting to blurry, but he took a deep breath and ran into the corridor._

 _Everything was on fire. The wooden walls, the staircase, even the ceiling was flaming red. And there was smoke everywhere._

 _Charlie's screams were becoming weaker by the second. Luckily, an untouched path led him straight to the nursery. He covered his face with his sleeve and hurried to his brother. With some luck, Nana would have reached the nursery before him and…_

 _William shouted in pain as his fingers touched the iron handle, now turning a deep shade of red, but he pushed the door open and entered the room. Oddly, the nursery was more spared than the rest of the house and Charlie was there, crying in his blue pyjama, hugging a purple and green dragon plush tightly. No sign of Ellen. And no sign of…_

 _He turned around, panic spreading in his chest once again, and faced with tears in his eyes the corridor burning in flames._

" _Nana!" he screamed. "Hemina!"_

 _But no-one ever called back._

 **Luton, England.**

The building had been burned to ashes, but rebuilt over a decade ago. As he looked at the muggle modern structure, Bill Weasley wondered vaguely if the current owners knew about its sordid past. Probably not; quite a few people would be spooked had they known two people had died in a fire there. Then again, the Ministry had conveniently Obliviated quite a few muggle back in the day. A shiver ran down his spine; sometimes, he wished they'd have done the same with him…

Bill shook that thought away immediately; forgetting that particular part of his childhood would be an insult to her existence. And he had very few memories left of her, as it was already. Time was a tricky thing, in overall.

He abandoned his observing and walked further down the pavement. If he stood too long at the same spot, memories would come and assault him. If he stared too long, someone was bound to stop and wonder about his interest in the residential building. And with his scarred face, people would remember him. He absentmindedly ran a finger over his now healed wound and involuntarily glanced back at the spot where their former house stood. A knot formed in his throat and he swallowed the guilt in the pit of his stomach.

It had been twenty years already.

"Is everything alright lad?"

Bill nearly jumped, startled at the sudden presence of an older man. The stranger stared at him with suspicion. The redhead winced inwardly.

"No, it's fine. I just…I use to live here." He added, nodding towards the building.

The man grunted something and let him be. Bill promptly left, feeling he was attracting more attention that warranted. He probably shouldn't have come by, but the pull, or morbid fascination, had been irresistible. No matter how hard he tried, he had to return and remember. Twenty years left him little of the memory of his sister, but he still felt the pull between them.

At the time he hadn't even realized it had existed. They were so close and inseparable; it had seemed natural for him to know where she stood at all times, to feel her strongest emotions. They were twins after all. But when Fred and Georges were born…they were tight, but it was obvious to Bill that their relation wasn't the same. They didn't have that…link, between them. Then again, Hemina had clearly been the dominant one, as he would always hide in her shadow, while the twins viewed each other on equal footing. And when she'd vanished, it had taken him years from his parents to convince him that she was indeed gone. He wouldn't feel her presence, but fear and pain and so many hurtful things instead –guilt for not following his sister that night, the magical nurse had said; he had screamed back that wherever she was, his Hemina was suffering.

And one day, just before his first year at Hogwarts, the overwhelming wave of emotions had stopped. The feelings were still there, simmering, but barely influencing his own anymore. That's when he had started believing he would never see her again.

Bill swallowed heavily and left the premises. Fleur was waiting for him at home with little Victoire, and he still had a few things to do before-

 _She was there._

The redhead froze on spot. His breath got caught in his throat and his hands shook slightly. Bill forced himself to calm down and glanced around. No wizard seemed to lurk in the corner. No-one was staring at him in particular. Hemina was dead, there was no way his guts could tell him where she stood. And yet, that odd familiar feeling was working its way through his chest. He briefly closed his eyes and allowed himself a few seconds to analyze it. No pain this time, no unease either. His whole body just yearned and ushered him to move forwards to meet with her. Wherever she was.

Bill inhaled sharply and decided to go with it.

His feet led him to a pub nearby and when he pushed the door open, the pull…faded as fast as it had appeared. The sudden loss nearly made him choke. What was the meaning of this? What had happened? Eyes scanned the crowd of clients, mostly men drinking a beer or other stuff he couldn't identify, a few women, couples, friends…and _her_.

A woman sat at a table in the far corner, nursing a glass while the man sitting across her talked about something entertaining. Red hair was loose over her shoulders and falling like a pool over red top. She was dressed casually but classy, most likely on a date with the other guy. When the other man paused in his narration, she lowered her glass and opened her mouth to speak in turn…

And suddenly she looked up and stared straight at him. The pull hit him in the guts again, and he barely stopped himself from screaming _her_ name.

As if she had heard his thoughts, the woman narrowed her eyes in suspicion. For a full minute, Bill felt petrified. This couldn't be real. This woman couldn't be _her_. Hemina was dead, she died in the fire along with their babysitter, she…

The woman's frown deepened at his insistent staring and he realized he had attracted the man's attention as well. A blonde man dressed in a sleeveless shirt, showing off his enormous arms. And he didn't look pleased. Bill swallowed heavily –he might be a wizard, but even he tended not to meddle with muscled muggles -and took another good look at the woman. Although she was a redhead, she didn't have the Weasley's common features. Her jaw was sharper, lips fuller and her eyes…damn those eyes. The eyes were maybe the only exception he could make. But it didn't mean a thing, and he didn't want to raise his hopes. She looked younger than him anyway, maybe twenty-two, while he would be turning thirty in a few months.

This woman couldn't be Hemina, he concluded sadly. Hemina was just a memory, a ghost haunting his mind and from which he couldn't part. His guilt wouldn't allow him to. So he turned around and walked out of the pub, shoulders slump and, for the first time in years, biting back the urge to scream.

 **TEW**

"Does that guy seem familiar to you?"

Clint stopped talking and, with her verbal permission given, glanced openly at the person she had been staring at. She wondered if he saw what she did: a tall redhead man in his late twenties, dressed in an outfit that had seen better days yet nowhere close to deterioration, a nasty scar on his face…looking like he had just seen a ghost.

"Seems like _he_ knows you," Clint replied cautiously. From his light frown, Natasha could tell he was memorizing every inch of the man's face. She returned to observing the guy and took careful notice as his expression shifted from astonishment to suspicion, then disbelief and guilt. After a few minutes of staring contest, the man swallowed heavily, bit his lower lip, and walked out of the bar, shoulders slumped down. Natasha suddenly felt an odd pang in her chest, a sort of longing to reach out for him and comfort him. Not in a romantic sense, but more like…she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The only times she had ever wanted to be of comfort to anyone was the guy sitting across the table.

"Must have realized you weren't who he was looking for. Tasha?" Clint called her and was confused when he realized her eyes hadn't left the exit door.

"I…I think I know him." She said slowly. "I felt something, when he looked at me and it's like…" It was a vague intuition, but her guts had never wronged her before. She could be mistaking of course, but a little voice in the back of her mind encouraged her to pursue her line of thoughts. "I might have met him before."

Clint became a lot more focused. Her friend was gone, and now Hawkeye was back in place, waiting for her assessment.

"Is he trouble?"

Natasha hesitated.

"No, I don't think so." She answered truthfully. "It wasn't a _dangerous_ vibe. More like a…an old acquaintance." She dropped a few bills on the table to cover their drinks and walked towards the door in turn. "Come on."

Clint followed her without questioning her decision, which she was grateful for. Anybody else might have demanded more information, but the archer had long proved he didn't need her to explain her every move. Three years into their partnership and she was still getting used to have somebody to rely on.

The pair exited the bar swiftly and stopped outside. The streets were deserted and neither could spot the man. Next to her, Clint was grimacing. Natasha cursed. If he of all people couldn't see him, then the man was truly out of their reach.

"I took a picture when he was staring at you," Clint said, showing his SHIELD issued phone. The redhead suddenly felt the urge to bang her head against the wall; why hadn't she thought of that? "I'll send it to Maria. She can run a facial recognition."

"Please do." She said gratefully and glanced one last time around, wondering how the man had vanished so quickly. "I want to know who he is."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I wasn't expecting to gather so many reviews for this…thanks everyone :D !**

 **And thanks to:**

 **Shadow**

 **Disturbance 101**

 **Here is the next chapter…Enjoy :)**

 **Un-beta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine ^^"**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **Chapter 1**

The Burrow was buzzing with activity when Bill arrived. After his quick stop in Luton, he had decided to delay his return by a day to get over his sense of loss. As much as he hated being late, he didn't think he could have faced his family in the state he was. Seeing the redhead woman had stirred something inside him and had hurt him more than the mere memory of Hemina had done in years.

"Bill, you are late!" Fleur chided him but her frown was more of worry than actually chiding. He offered her an apologetic smile and kissed her briefly.

"Sorry honey, something came up."

Her worries set to rest; she pinched her lips, clearly waiting for an explanation. He was saved from that by his mother who, seemingly sensing his presence from a mile, bolted into the front lounge and raised her hands up high in exasperation.

"Goodness Bill, you are so late! Come here, all your brothers are here already."

She pushed him in the living room where a large gathering had assembled. Harry and Hermione were there, sticking to Ron for the occasion. Charlie hadn't been able to come, something to do with his job in Romania, which had greatly displeased Molly. Percy was engaged in a conversation with his father and Georges, which Fleur joined after sending him a last reproachful stare.

Georges chuckled at something his father said, but his heart wasn't quite into it. Even from a distance, Bill could see the forced smile and the tired wrinkles around his eyes. He must have exhausted himself in the shop lately; according to Ron, he was there before he arrived to help and remained after he had gone. He did not see his sister though.

"Hey Mom," he said, interrupting whatever rant she was about –and which he wasn't listening to. "Where's Ginny?"

Molly raised both eyebrows in frustration and motioned towards the stairs.

"In her room. She had an argument with Harry and went hiding there." She grumbled reproachfully. "Now isn't the moment for being childish."

"I'll talk to her," he immediately offered and stormed off before she could stop him. The retreat was part escape, part worry. It had been a while since he had seen his youngest sibling, longer than he had truly expected. He was her favorite brother and felt particularly protective of her –not only because she was the baby of the family, but she was the only girl born after five boys. The first _girl_ sibling after Hemina. It had come as a shock at the time; when his parents had announced the arrival of a baby girl. He thought they had carefully watched his reactions to the news; but he was mature enough not to have a fit. He knew Ginny wasn't there to replace Nana; she never could anyway. But it didn't stop him from trying harder.

Bill stopped in front of her room and knocked at the door.

"Ginny?" he called gently as not to startle her. "It's me."

"Go away!" was the faint protest on the other side. But he knew her tone all too well. She didn't really want him to leave; she just wanted someone who would listen. He ignored her denial and pushed the door open and entered the room.

Ginny was sitting on her bed, the same bed she had since she was old enough to sleep alone. Bill hadn't been inside for a while, mostly due to his new family. There was his wife and Victoire to take care of, a home and a life to build. His new obligations had distanced him from his family, but he would try to be there for them. He stopped on the threshold when he spotted his little sister, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. The war had left its marks on her, just like everybody else. It had taken her months to smile genuinely again and from her last letter, she was still having nightmares. They would all have nightmares for a while, he thought. He had learned that lesson as a child already.

The teenager –or rather young woman now –sniffed. She looked pretty in her summer dress and hair recently shortened just above her shoulders. He remembered Molly making a fuss over the loss –she wanted long hair for her daughter –but the change had been done and Molly had to give in.

"What's going on Ginny?"

His sister shifted on her bed, making some space for him to sit. He took the invitation, leaned his elbows on his knees and waited. She would talk whenever she would be ready.

"Harry and I broke up." Her eyelids batted furiously, as if she was trying to bite back tears, but she didn't cry. "I'm sorry, that's just…it's the twins –I mean, Georges' birthday and Fred…and I just can't stop thinking of my personal problems. It just sucks."

Bill winced inwardly; death and birthday parties mixed together weren't the greatest. Words of comfort would sound void to Georges, and even if they did, his parents and the rest of the Weasley clan were there to say them. Bill tended to grieve in private, but right now he'd trade his problems with Ginny's problematic love life. So he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Ginny sniffed again and closed her eyes, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"What happened?" he asked gently. His sister swallowed hard.

"We weren't working out," she confessed. "Maybe at first it seemed to go fine, but in the end we wanted different things. He's changed after the war; it's been weighing on him, he's still haunted. And I just want to go forward and start anew. He's not ready to do that yet." Ginny sighed and shrugged, getting away from his embrace. "And I…I'm not strong enough to help him through that. I could probably stay for his sake but…he's been lied enough through his life. I don't want him to…I wanted to be honest with him. So I told him, and…and there I am."

This time her lower lip trembled. Bill felt she wasn't done, so let her go on.

"You know what's worst? He just _stared,_ you know? Like, he wasn't expecting this at all, like he expected me to stand by his side. Maybe he thought I was willing to wait, but…I'm not. I love Harry, but I can't –I won't –he's not what I want. Is it selfish from me, to leave him here, but I…I'll always be there for him. I told him I'll always support him. But not that way." Her voice was slightly stronger now, but her eyes were still uncertain as she glanced up at him. "Was it the right thing to do?"

Instead of answering straight ahead, Bill gave himself a couple seconds to think.

"Harry was enough lied to growing up. It might hurt him now, but…" He paused, and added: "If you really think it wasn't going to work out, then you did good breaking it now." He smiled slightly. "Don't hide in the bedroom though, he's going to think you're abandoning him."

Ginny groaned and reluctantly stood. She ran a hand over her face to wipe out any traces of sadness; then, in a coquettish manner, spun on herself. She paused stylishly, torso slightly forwards, hand in her short hair and chin slightly raised.

"How do I look?" she asked, the tone of her voice attempting to take a seductive tone. Bill chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood.

"Good, and you know it. Now go before mom makes a bigger fuss."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him and obeyed. Bill took his time to follow, the spin and pose triggering something in the far end of his memory. Hemina loved showing off, forcing him to dress up with her in old clothes of their mother's and playing around. Even as a child, he remembered being awed by her boldness, her presence and self-insurance. He briefly wondered, not for the first time, what she would have become had she survived. Would she have been sent to Gryffindor like him? Which career would she have chosen? Would they still be tight or would they have grown apart? He liked to think they would have argued all the time, but still have each other's back. That they'd still team up against the parents yet keep an eye on their siblings. Out of the blue, the face of the woman back from the bar came to his mind.

He snorted and chased the thoughts away. Right here and right now was Georges' birthday, Fred's memorial and his upset wife downstairs. He stood up and went down the stairs to join the rest of the clan. Given the sounds, everyone was regrouping in the garden. The weather wasn't too bad today and the guests too numerous to set the table inside. And yet, someone was still there when he passed by the kitchen. Georges stood alone, facing a mirror on the wall. He looked tired and sad and lost, staring longingly at his reflection, no doubt remembering that that same face also belonged to another not so long ago.

"Does the loss ever lessen?" he heard the young man whisper to himself. Bill made his presence known by stepping in and Georges' expression switched and immediately showed a smile. Both knew the twin had been caught at a bad moment. _You're not the only one who lost a twin,_ Bill wanted to say. Years of keeping back Hemina a secret came back and he held his tongue. Not to mention his parents would be upset if he mentioned her now.

"You're not alone, Georges," he whispered, in a hopefully comforting tone.

Bill caught the hurt and mockery in his brother's eyes, the hint saying that no matter what he said, he wouldn't _understand_. Still Georges kept his smile, nodded and thanked him. They both headed to the table where the plates were set and the food warm and ready to be served. Everyone settled in the loud way the Weasley clan usually did. Before the food was served though, Georges caught everyone's attention by rising from his seat and cleared his throat. Silence slowly fell over as they waited.

"Before we start, I want to say something. This is the first year we celebrate our anniversary with my half missing," Georges started, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's depressing as hell." Sad smiles grew on some faces. "But I want to thank you all for being here, for reminding me that I still have a life to live. And I promise, I'll get better. No overtime at the prank shop, I promise Ron," he added, winking at his younger brother. Said brother looked embarrassed at being pointed out, but also slightly relieved. He raised his glass for a cheer. "Happy birthday to me," and he added more quietly: "And to you Fred."

"We shall never forget him, Georges," Arthur assured him, his voice thick with emotion. "Fred will always be in our memories."

"It'll still be both your birthdays," Molly added with a bright smile, tears glomming in her eyes. "And we will keep celebrating each and every year."

The parents raised their glasses, quickly followed by the others. But the sound of something breaking interrupted the cheer, and everyone stared at the edge of the table, or rather, at Bill. Bill, who had vague, empty eyes focused on the shattered glass in his hand, as if he had broken his glass by squeezing it too hard.

* * *

Leaving a family dinner in the middle of a course without any apparent reason was regarded extremely impolite. The problem was that Bill had no intention of staying one second more after hearing his parents' words. They had triggered an old anger he would have rather set aside today. Georges might not understand at first, but Bill figured he would forgive him, should he explain himself later. _Should_ his parents allowed him to explain later, he corrected bitterly.

As he picked up his jacket, Bill realized his hands were slightly shaking. He closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled sharply. This was bad. He could feel his magic boiling inside and his scars tingle. He needed to get out before he did something he'd regret.

He stumbled into Fleur as he stepped out. His wife had that frown between her brows, the one that told him she was too worried to be angry at him. Again.

"Bill?" she called cautiously. The redhead gave her a half-felt smile.

"You can stay longer, I just…I need to go." He said, voice tight. "I really need to…I'll see you later at home."

He gave her a quick kiss and left before she could speak again. Unfortunately, he was stopped by Molly as he approached the outside door.

"You need to give an apology." His mother started sharply, wearing a wounded expression. Bill ignored her and slipped his coat on. "Bill, return out here at once and excuse yourself to your brother!"

"I will apologize to George later," he barked back. "You can return to this farce of a party you put so much effort into."

The woman's mouth hung low for a second, and then she shouted:

"This is your brother's birthday! Both your brothers' birthday. Not acknowledging Fred is like betraying his memory!"

And that was the moment Bill realized she had no idea why he was leaving, why she had pronounced those words in spite of him being here, not even thinking of what he could have felt.

"And yet you did that exact thing for Hemina!" Bill yelled back, anger rolling off his shoulders in spade. Molly paled drastically and covered both hands over her mouth, eyes widening in realization; which only steered his anger even more. " _She_ was your _eldest_! It doesn't matter she was only six at the time; she should have been remembered too! She didn't deserve you trying to forget her as hard as you did!" His mother suddenly looked small and vulnerable, but he was far too gone to feel any guilt yet. "She was the smart one, she was the _brave_ one. Do you know what she did last? What she did that night before disappearing? Do you even remember that?"

Molly stepped backwards. He took a step forward, uncaring of the tears that had started to leak from her eyes. He had bottled up these emotions far too long.

"I thought I heard footsteps downstairs. She told me to hide while she checked what was going on." A child's voice echoed in his mind as he spoke. _It's my job to protect you. I'll be back right away._ "She left because I woke her up, because I didn't have the nerves to open the damn door and go down there myself!" _It's my job._ "She went and she never returned. And then everything was on fire." A small redheaded face with sparkling green-blue eyes and a serious frown returned from his memories. _I'll be back,_ the girl said. And the childish frown shifted into a more mature, adult one of the woman from the bar.

"I…" Molly babbled. "I didn't think –you were so _young_. We thought you've forgotten."

Bill looked at his mother straight in the eye. They had tried, he knew, tried hard even, to keep Hemina out of his mind. When their link had diminished, they had pushed him to distraction with Hogwarts, raising his brothers –even convinced Dumbledore to ensure he was _very_ busy. Over twenty years had gone, he had grown, he had gone through a war and survived it, married and had a child. But even after all this…

"Did you really believe you could ever make me forget?"

He had never told them why he had suddenly embraced the role of the big brother with Charlie and watched over baby Percy and the rest of the Weasley clan as they grew bigger. Hemina was supposed to bear that role, and because of him, because he was too scared to peek in their corridor, she couldn't do it. He had no choice but to step up and take her place.

"You want to know the irony of it all?" Bill added coldly. "I still feel her. Even years after she's dead," he slammed his hand flat against his chest, ignoring the slight echo that seemed to reflect the emptiness he felt inside. "I still feel the pull. I still jump whenever I see a redhead woman, hoping she'll recognize me or I'd recognize her." His mind briefly flashed back at the woman in the café once again. "Trust me, it sucks, but I can't fight it. So no, I won't apologize for leaving now. I will celebrate Fred's memory in my own way, just like I have always done. On my own," he added bitterly.

"Bill, stop it."

He turned around and faced his father. Arthur and Percy were there, the former tired and guilty while the second red in the face.

"How could you do this?" Percy hissed angrily. "This is – you are- of all people, I didn't expect that from you!"

"And you still accuse without hearing the whole story," Bill shot back, which made his brother flinch and turn into a deep shade of purple. "Ask them what's wrong, maybe they'll say the truth for once." He added, casting one last glare at his parents before walking out. This time, no-one tried to stop him.

* * *

"What do you mean, he's not on your list?"

Natasha heard Maria's heavy sigh from the phone and could nearly see her rubbing her temples to sooth an upcoming headache. Clint was gone for a mission and she had found herself with nothing else but time on her hands. So she had harassed Maria till she gave news about the pictures he had taken of the redhead stranger. And then Maria had to announce the not so great news.

" _He's not in our files in the SHIELD database. And any requests I've put through the system return negative. Either your guy was never officially recorded, or it was erased."_

"So you've got no means to find him?"

" _Natasha, I'm already assigning half a dozen searchers on that case. I'll find something eventually."_

The redhead sighed heavily.

"Actually, that's not exactly why I'm calling," she said, her fingers playing with her napkin. "You can call back those searchers; he's standing thirty feet away from me."

There was a heavy silence on the line. Natasha shifted and leaned back against her seat. Her free finger let go of her napping and clasped over the spoon to turn her coffee, waiting for the outburst.

" _Are you in England right now?"_ Maria eventually asked surprisingly calm. Natasha held back a smirk, although her boss and friend couldn't see it.

"I'm off-duty." Maria's silence spoke a long way, although Natasha couldn't decide whether the woman was pissed, stunned or worried. Maybe all three. "Listen, I just want to know who he is. I'll call you later."

Before the woman could retaliate, Natasha cut the communication and let her shoulders drop, forcing herself to relax. While she didn't doubt Maria's workers, she felt that this search was something she had to do alone, privately. Returning to the café where Clint and she had seen him had been a gambit, but it had paid off. Sitting on the café' terrace, she could easily spot the man standing across the road, staring back at her. Their gaze held a few moments before she motioned to him to come closer. The man seemed to hesitate, but then crossed the road and joined her. Once he reached the table, she pointed towards the free chair. He obeyed and sat wordlessly.

Now that he was facing her, she took her time to study him. Thin but strong frame, still clean but odd-fashioned clothes, alliance on his finger –that she hadn't noticed last time - red light hair falling just above his shoulders, scarred on the side of the face, probably from a dog or some animal, green-blue eyes. Those eyes…sad, grieving, intense eyes…she could see her own reflection in them, as he appeared to be observing her as carefully as she was. Even though he was a complete stranger, something in her guts told her he wouldn't harm her. The feeling came readily, not unlike the way Clint made her feel at first –but much quicker. She knew that man, she knew him from somewhere, Natasha was sure of it.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked when it became clear he was too nervous to speak first. The redhead man shifted uncomfortably on his seat and glanced at the table. He looked embarrassed, frightened even, but he eventually swallowed and replied, his voice a notch deeper and huskier than she had first imagined:

"My name is William Weasley," he said, introducing himself. British accent, probably local. She nodded and waited for him to continue: "I…I have no other way to say this, so I'll just say it: I think we're related." He paused, drew in a deep breath, and added: "I believe you're my sister."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sooo I'm back! As I mentioned in another crossover of mine, since I've got four HPxoA going on, I'll just alternate all updates. Basically, each story should be updated once every two months…**

 **Sorry bout that ^^"**

 **Anyway, thanks to:**

 **Guest 1**

 **Guest 2:** I am French that's why ^^" I'll try to pay more attention next time. And thanks for pointing out! Last chapter wasn't beta-ed ^^"

 **Killy**

 **Guest 3**

 **And thanks to Blue for beta-ing and to AnimaFera for the translation :)**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **Chapter 2**

Of all the things Natasha expected, _that_ was _not_ it.

"What?" she blurted, all composure gone.

William Weasley –if such was his name –spoke so quickly she nearly missed his next words:

"Her name was Hemina, she was six when she disappeared in a fire that was in our home. Muggle firemen pulled my brother and me out." Natasha stared in disbelief. "And she was reported missing along with our babysitter that night."

A stunned silence stretched between them; Natasha was so surprised she couldn't even utter a word. She was Russian. She had been taken in by the Red Room, a Russian organization. Why would an Englishman even think she could be his sister? Fine, she had red hair, but there were plenty of redheads around the world. Was he after _her_? Did he belong to another organization and was trying to draw her out? He wasn't built like Clint, he didn't show muscles through his well-fitting clothes, but Natasha had been trained to recognized people that were trained for a special kind of reason. William Weasley might not advertize his strength, but she did not peg him for a weakling one bit.

Weasley seemed to be waiting for a reaction of any type. She was about to proceed to her usual pro-interrogation game of verbal cat-and-mouse, when her phone rang. For the first time since she'd known him, Natasha thanked Clint's weird sense of timing. She picked up, discreetly watching for any suspicious move from the redhead man.

"Hello?"

The man couldn't hold back a small grimace; but whether it was disappointment at her taking the call or having a potential ally intervene in his plans remained undecided.

" _Maria sent me a code orange with your name. What have you gotten into Tasha? I thought I was the one supposed to screw up when you weren't around."_

Natasha hesitated, then replied in Russian:

"Помнишь рыжего мужчину? Он утверждает, что является моим братом" ( _Remember the redhead guy? He claims to be my brother)_

Weasley stared at her in confusion. Looking first at her cell phone and switching to her face. Still, he leaned against the back seat and waited politely for her to be done.

" _What?"_ was Clint's eloquent answer.

"Ты все верно расслышал. ( _You heard it correctly)_ ," she went on. "И, похоже, он не понимает русского языка ( _And he doesn't seem to understand Russian_ )." She raised an eyebrow in silent question. Weasley squirmed under her inquisitive stare but didn't offer an answer. "Мне нужно, чтобы тыпринес ДНК-тестер. Я хочу выяснить, правду ли он говорит. ( _I need you to bring me a DNA tester. I want to figure out why he believes he's telling the truth_ )."

Clint was silent on the line.

" _Left field, but I'll roll with it_ ," he eventually said. " _But…seriously Natasha, what the fuck?"_

"Просто сделай ( _Just do it)_ ," she said, waiting for his confirmation to hang up. She trusted Clint to do things right; now all she needed was something of his she could use for extracting his genetic code. If only to indulge her curiosity. The official argument was that it would put him, a man Maria Hill couldn't trace, on the SHIELD track list.

"That was…which language?" Weasley asked with curiosity.

"Russian," Natasha replied, observing his body language. "I grew up in Russia, actually."

The man's face fell and his whole body followed suit.

"Oh." He merely said, sounding genuinely disappointed and embarrassed. Once again, Natasha felt the urge to pat his shoulder in comfort. She repressed it and added:

"I am an orphan though." His shoulders and eyes peeked up in hope. "And I don't remember who named me." Two true facts. "The likeliness of us being related is close to none, but I'm willing to listen to your reasons as to why you think we are siblings."

Better play his game, she thought; he had caught her attention for the time being, and she was bored without a mission to go on. Weasley took his time to study his words. Natasha observed him intensely, scanning for any trace of deception and waited.

"We…uh," he swallowed nervously. "We were –are–twins." Twins. He believed they had been twins. She nearly scoffed. One thing she could affirm without hesitation was that they did _not_ resemble each other at all. He was far older than her –although she wasn't quite sure how old she was, it wasn't like the Red Room kept track of those things. Even their hair differed, hers being colored a deeper shade of red. "And we had a connection. We could feel each other's presence, each other's feelings…and the link never died, even after the fire. I found you by following it the other night. Same today." He hesitated and asked quietly: "Do you…don't you feel it?"

This time, Natasha was the one feeling slightly uncomfortable. She had started her investigation on the man in Luton because logic had told her he might return there. But she hadn't _really_ searched until today, because her guts had told her he wouldn't show up before. Weasley wasn't wrong. She could, maybe, somewhat, guess whether he'd be around or not. But as to feel his emotions? No need to feel them when she could read them on his face. Unless his acting surpassed hers –which she highly doubted –he was hoping, desperately, that she was indeed his long lost sister.

"We can test it," he added quietly. "We could just do a genealogy spell and…settle it."

Natasha blinked. A genealogy _spell_? What did that man think he was, a wizard? Instead of voicing her last thought, she added:

"You mean now?"

"Maybe somewhere else," Weasley admitted, glancing around. "There are only muggles here."

Muggles? This was the second time he used the word. Did it categorize a certain part of the population? If he considered himself a…wizard…did it mean non-wizards were muggles? Did he think she was a witch or something? Natasha nearly scoffed at the idea; while her skills were nearly inhuman, they were no way due to witchcraft but harsh training.

"Sure," she said, entering his game. She had to admit, while this whole case might turn out dangerous, it was intriguing. "Just, make it quick, I need to meet someone." She added. Of course, Natasha hadn't given Clint any time or place to meet and given that he was sent away on a mission, she doubted he would be available before tomorrow at the least. Still, it didn't hurt to let the other man believe another person was expecting her later. Useful or not, it would still cover _some_ bases.

"There's a spot in the alley over there. A muggle-repellant and a notice-me-not should be enough," Weasley added with a wicked grin. The guy was excited and _impatient,_ like this spell or whatever would bring him peace. "Should we go?"

Natasha dropped a few pounds to cover the drink she had bought and stood to follow him.

"I suppose you don't have time to stop at Gringotts?" he asked as they walked away. Not knowing where Gringotts was –or what it was for the matter- Natasha shook her head negatively. Weasley winced slightly. "Ah…I know the spell but then it might not be a hundred percent reliable. Goblins are the specialists for delicate spells like these after all," he added with a small laugh. "I've worked with them long enough to know that."

Now he was including goblins. Perfect, Natasha thought sarcastically, he's a lunatic. Unless 'goblins' was the code for another organization? He sounded nervous. Of finding out whether she was his sibling? That his plan to approach her wasn't working as he intended? There was only one way to figure it out.

They headed to the alley Weasley had mentioned, not too far away from the main way but isolated enough for them to talk. Natasha did not expect what followed: Weasley pulled out a stick from his sleeve. An honest-to-God wooden stick, neatly polished, although a bit used. He waved it towards the entrance of the alley, whispered a few incomprehensible words, and returned his attention on her.

"You know how it works?" she shook her head. Weasley pulled out a blank paper –no, a parchment - from his pocket and put it against a window frame.

Her eyes widened as he bit the tip of his middle finger hard and let a drop of blood fall on the paper. He then pointed the stick and muttered something resembling Latin. What she assumed to be his full name (William Arthur Weasley) drew itself on the paper, along with other names. Before his was Hemina Minerva Weasley, and after came Charles and Perceval and Fred and Georges and Ronald and Ginerva. All were tied through a line that went up and stopped. Other names grew over the tip of the line (Arthur and Molly Weasley) and again other names on each side (other Weasleys and Prewetts) till the paper formed a perfect genealogical tree growing back to four generations.

She cleared her throat and tried to analyze the tree. William Weasley's name was bold red, probably because he was the one producing the _spell_ , while others were black. Fred was crossed out by a line, along with others from the earlier generation. Hemina's name was faint, nearly erased and oddly, only halfway crossed. Weasley winced slightly when he caught her staring.

"Mom and dad thought Hemina was dead from the crossing. We've never seen that phenomenon before. We could have pushed to study its meaning, but we didn't have the connections or the money at the time." He paused and added quietly: "And we were at war."

Natasha nodded silently, deeply troubled. How had he done this? Was the paper a trick? Was it a trap designed to lure her into a sense of security? And what war was he talking about? Twenty years ago, there hadn't been a war in England. Unless he belonged to a gang? Natasha shoved the thought aside, even if events had occurred at the time, she would have been too young to remember them.

"I'm sorry about your brother," she said instead. Crossing apparently meant death, and according to the tree, the one called Fred had passed away. Weasley offered her a half-smile.

"Thank you. Fred was Georges' twin. If you will…" he added, motioning towards another blank parchment.

Natasha reluctantly obeyed and bit the tip of her finger hard enough for it to bleed. Then she extended her hand and waited for a drop to fall.

The blood reached the paper and slowly absorbed it. Weasley mumbled the formula again. Natasha watched with keen attention.

At the very same moment, a man appeared out of nowhere.

Natasha had a split-second instinct to pounce on him, but Weasley's shock startled her momentarily. The newcomer was wearing a long dark robe and held himself like an officer, someone holding an important title, or a title of authority. He first glanced at her before turning his attention to Weasley.

"Seriously, Bill? I thought you'd be smarter than using your magic in front of a muggle."

There again with the world muggle. The use of 'magic' confirmed her theory that those two believed themselves to be wizards though; and that the unknown guy thought she didn't possess any magic.

"She's not a muggle!" the redhead protested. The newcomer stared at her in turn.

"You have a wand?"

Natasha raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. She hadn't been said to be the best just because she was the best fighter; but also thanks to her quick thinking. So far, Weasley hadn't given a second thought on whether she had magic or not because he believed she was a witch. The other needed more than just conviction, a proof that she was one of them. Which, she wasn't. So Natasha did what she did best; pretend to understand what they were talking about and follow her guts.

"Just because I don't have a wand doesn't mean I am a muggle," she protested, giving the man a cold stare. "What tells you I didn't break it?"

Weasley suddenly looked horrified at the thought; or was it that she didn't have a wand? The other guy flinched, obviously uncomfortable at the idea, but still gathered himself fast.

"Sorry, I'm taking no risks." He pulled his wand in a flash and whispered before she could even move: " _Obliviate_."

 **TEW**

Upon meeting with the woman –he suddenly realized he didn't even know her name –Bill had felt nervous and excited. The woman had agreed to listen to him, hadn't pegged him as crazy, and had followed him outside for the genealogy test. She had acted suspicious of course, which he didn't blame her for, but she didn't seem to have any memory of him. Perhaps she had forgotten him the way his parents had hoped he'd forgotten her. The thought stung a little, but he couldn't very well blame her. Especially if she had somehow been shipped to and raised in Russia.

Bill wasn't an idiot, he had noticed she didn't have an English accent, but he hadn't thought she would have come from an Eastern country. As they had talked, she had seemed politely intrigued, maybe even opened to the idea ( _did she have any idea how desperate he was for a positive answer?_ ). So he had pushed his luck and suggested the genealogy spell. Unfortunately, not everyone had believed this to be a good idea.

The flash of blue hit the woman before Bill could make a move. He could only watch helplessly as a puzzled expression grew on her face. Auror Danny Barthelme pulled him aside and whispered:

"I'm not reporting this because I'm in a hurry and you saved my skin during the war, but if you do this again I won't cover you," he said, checking his watch. "Seriously, you're married Weasley; don't show off in front of another chick, even if she is gorgeous."

Incredulity was quickly replaced by anger.

"I'm not cheating on my wife," Bill hissed. "You have no idea what's going on."

"Not my problem right now," Danny replied, unrepentant. "I'll let you deal with the rest."

The Auror gave him a brief nod and apparated away. Bill felt too mortified to know where to start, and turned to face the woman. She was now frowning at him, only one eyebrow raised, head tipped on the side, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. He didn't want to put his hopes up thinking that he and Ginny did that gesture when they were annoyed too.

"What was that supposed to do exactly? Make me forget something?"

Blink.

 _What_?

"He…eh…what do you remember?" Bill asked, feeling slightly awkward.

"Everything, I suppose." She replied with a shrug. "Up from the moment you met me at the café to the genealogical spell and that guy showing up. And pointed his _stick_ at me," she added with a frown of distaste. "Did I miss something?"

"Wait…" Perhaps Danny had been right on something; he hadn't bothered _asking_ if she was a witch first. Then again, he was so sure this was Hemina that he hadn't imagined she didn't possess magic. "Are you aware of magic?"

The question was ill-timed of course, and way too late. But no matter what, Bill couldn't resolve himself to erase that woman's memory.

"I am. And I'm not a fan," she replied in a huff. Her closed-off posture halfway reassured and worried him. She hadn't been affected by the spell, but was genuinely puzzled by the casting. He couldn't decide what to deduce from that. Was she lying to keep her memories intact? Was she truly a muggle? Or a witch wandering without her wand? Had she renounced magic to live in the muggle world? That late option was the most plausible _(or rather, the only one he'd accept)_. But what about the lack of reaction to the _obliviate_? Not even a trained wizard could counter it once it hit them. Even if the woman wasn't a witch or his Hemina, perhaps he still should keep a closer eye on her…

"Huh," she hummed pensively, glancing at the paper. Her drop of blood had fallen on the parchment, and his heart skipped a beat when the uncrossed part of Hemina glowed red. "That's interesting." She then looked at him. "So, what is that suppose to mean?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in a bored way. His guts contradicted her nonchalance; the woman was hiding it well, but she was plenty uneasy and maybe a tad bit frightened.

"Uh…do you trust the genealogy spell?" If his heartbeat didn't slow down, Bill was sure he'd end up having a heart attack. It was her. It was _her_. He had been right; his Hemina wasn't dead. She was standing and breathing a hair away from him.

"Not entirely. I want to check this my way before…" she made a vague wave of the hand. "Giving this another thought. Do you mind giving me a few hairs?"

Her request caught him completely off-guard.

"What for?"

"Muggles have this technology called DNA testing," she explained. "It can prove whether we are related or not. It's rather reliable, but I'd rather repeat it a few times. Hence, a few hairs."

She kept referring to muggles like she knew what she was talking about, and relied on them more than magic. Bill couldn't tell why it bothered him.

"How does it work?"

"How much do you know about muggle technology?"

More than most wizards, Bill thought, thanks to his father.

"Not much." He admitted. The woman sighed and explained:

"I'll say it the easy way: each human have a genetic code. That genetic code can be extracted from a part of a body, a hair is enough. Related people share a common code. If the code in my hair and yours are similar in some specific way, then it would confirm that we…" she made a vague wave with her hand. "Are related."

Bill swallowed slowly. The woman was far from delighted and excited. He cursed himself for believing things would be so easy.

"If it turns out that we are related?" he asked, praying that the muggle DNA device testing or whatever would work. "Will you let me know?"

She stared at him sideways, her green eyes analyzing him cautiously.

"If we are related," she said softly: "then it will be safer if we never meet again."


	4. Chapter 4

**lw117149** : haha thank you ! (and yes I do, because I can ;) )

 **RedBlueOneTwo** : Hee first he has to find out…

 **Guest** 1: Thank you!

 **Guest** 2: every two months or so…and here goes ^^

 **Luckey** : Tengo que girar con 4 fics, así que sí, el tiempo de actualización es bastante largo ^^ "Contar cada 2 meses para una actualización… saludos desde Francia ! :)

 **Many thanks to Blue for beta-ing ! :D**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **3.**

Natasha had been glaring at the stack of papers scattered on the floor for the past two hours.

It had been weeks since the results from SHIELD's lab had come. After that first one, Natasha had managed to charm three distinctive squints to run separate DNA tests. She had even paid with her own money for another test from an independent private company ( _and boy, those_ were _expensive)_.

Each of them had shown the same results; and Natasha was stuck in a phase of denial. William Weasley and her DNA were similar. All fingers pointed at the fact he was her biological brother ( _five freaking tests!_ ) but she still couldn't let the implications sink in. If that man was her brother, it would mean that the little pieces of her past she thought remembering were false. It would mean she wasn't even Russian to begin with. It would mean she might be a…witch. A freaking witch. A witch with a wand and magic that she definitively never used -and didn't know how to use- or even what she could base herself on, to figure out a way to determine if she had any kind of power and-

 _Calm down_ , a small part of her brain ordered. _One thing at a time_.

Natasha breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and tried to order her thoughts. Fact one: William Weasley was likely to be her brother. Fact two: consequently, her family was _very_ likely alive, and British ( _and according to the numerous names on the magical genealogical tree, it was a big family)_. Fact three: he claimed to be a wizard, or at least belong to a magical community, which would make _her_ a witch by default.

She opened her eyes and grabbed a piece of paper to write it all down under the form of a list. She then wrote 'Red Room –Russia' on the side, circled the word and tied it to 'British'. Other words started forming as the pencil scratched the paper in her attempt to make things clearer ( _fire - disappearance - overlooked kidnapping? specific target? magic related? why Great Britain and not Russia? others in RR? what experimentation…)._ She stopped at the last word when she realized her hand was trembling. Slowly putting the pencil down, Natasha closed her eyes again to regain her cool. She barely remembered her training time at the Red Room, except for the other girls, the handcuff around her hand at nighttime, the faces of some handlers and the few 'doctors' that would come to check their health and insert needles and pump all kind of serums in their bodies. Most girls had never returned from those operations; she and a few lucky ones had survived. And in the end…she had had to kill the others.

"Nat, you're okay?"

The redhead nearly jumped out of her chair and stabbed the newcomer with the previously used pencil. The only reflex that prevented her from doing so was the split second-recognition of Clint's familiar voice. Drawing another deep breath, she turned around to face him. Her partner was still wearing his training gear, which meant he must have walked straight out of one of SHIELD's gyms. He also looked worried, the frown between his eyebrows more pronounced.

"I called you several times, Nat. What's going on?"

That was annoying. He hadn't managed to sneak up on her in _years_. Even when in pursuit of her, she had managed to see him coming. Instead of dwelling on the uneasy feeling, Natasha gathered the result letters together and handed them to him wordlessly. She didn't trust anyone else with that information and while she probably should have kept this a secret, Clint was the one who had brought the first DNA test in **,** in the first place. He was bound to ask eventually. Clint took the papers and quickly read through.

"You'll have to explain the deal here," he said, frowning. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be understanding."

She glared at him, so annoyed she had to spit it out.

"DNA tests, what else?"

The archer froze and read the letters again. He would know what she was talking about; there weren't many DNA tests she would grow upset over. Natasha decided to go on, not allowing her voice to tremble in the least:

"They are similar. That guy and I…we have common genes." She nodded towards the files. "According to this, we are directly related."

Clint met her eyes again.

"You mean he was right when he said he was your brother?" he asked bluntly.

"Twin," she corrected, although was still unbelieving of that last one.

"Wicked," Clint chimed in blankly. If he was shocked by her declaration, he hid it well. "I'm pretty sure he isn't as gorgeous as you are," he added with the probable intention of cheering her up. She gave him kudos for trying.

"We don't even _look_ alike." She muttered. "Except for the eyes, maybe."

Clint put the stack of papers back on the table and nodded towards her series of written words.

"Trying to put order in your mind?"

Natasha suddenly remembered the mention of magic and promptly, but not too fast, folded the paper for later use. Clint's hawkish vision might have allowed him to read some of her notes, but at least he didn't sound too hurried to confront her about it.

"It doesn't make sense," she said in the hopes of distracting him a little and sharing her wonders. Maybe he could help as an outsider opinion. "Why would the Red Room come to England of all places to steal little girls? The others were Russian, I am nearly certain of it!" she snapped, angry now. "I had a family, a mother and a father and brothers. I don't know why they took me away."

"You think it's related to magic?"

His unexpected declaration made her raise an eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?"

Clint gave her a lopsided –yet sheepish- grin.

"I read your notes. Sort of. And I grew up in the circus. You meet all kind of weird folks in there." Natasha wondered if that was his way of saying he had encountered magical beings before. He didn't linger on the subject though and swiftly added: "So what now?"

The redhead eyed him suspiciously; did he truly think of 'magical' magic, or the tricks magicians did in front of wide-eyed children? She decided to follow her inquiries at a later date; she had other priorities in mind.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I told the guy I'd rather not keep contact if it turned out that we were related."

"But?"

Natasha sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"But he looked so… _hurt_ and lost and…you should have _seen_ the look in his eyes when-" _when the genealogical tree had lightened her supposed 'name' in red._ "He's been looking for her a long time. I feel like I'm letting him down by keeping the truth from him. But I can't…we _can't_ be seen in public. I'm the Black Widow. If word got out that I had family out there; civilian family…it would put him and _his_ family in danger. And he's married." She paused. "I don't know what to do."

Clint crossed his arms and tilted his head on the side.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked quietly. She glanced at him. "Science says he's your brother. Do you want to cross him off your list of acquaintances?"

Natasha looked down at the table where her paper note was folded, as if it could give her a clear answer.

"I don't know," she replied quietly. "The least I can do is telling him about the results but…I'm scared I might want to get to know him better," she admitted. She'd never had a family. If this one turned out to be hers…why shouldn't she try to reconnect with them? The answer was obvious: many people wanted her dead or get to her. If she was spotted by an old enemy in their company…who knows what could happen?

Clint smiled slightly.

"If I had the instruction manual for this kind of stuff, I'd hand it to you." he said softly and stepped closer. He hesitated a second then parted his arms. "Wanna hug?"

Natasha rolled her eyes; she wasn't one for that kind of affection. Even if it was a bit tempting right now. She cleared that thought away; no need to get soft, not even for Clint.

"I'll meet with him," she declared slowly, missing the slight disappointment in his eyes. "And then I'll figure out what to do."

 **The Eldest Weasley**

" _Bonjour_ Fleur!"

Fleur Weasley glanced up from her platform, her hands dark with dirt. She had been gardening for the past hour to keep herself busy, leaving Victoire dozing off in her baby carrier. Charlie and Ginny waved from afar, each carrying a travel pouch over their shoulders. Given their state of dress, they must have walked a while. Bill and she had agreed that any Portkey to was to appear at least half a mile away from their house. The war was over, but some safety reflexes never left, especially since they were renowned to be close to the Boy-Who-Lived. Rumors of Death Eaters keeping low profile still ran afloat after all.

"Hello," the woman greeted with a genuine smile. "The rooms are ready, if you want to settle first."

"Thanks Fleur, you're a lifesaver," the second son of the family said. "Mom was so pissed that I missed the twins' birthday, I figured I'd rather let her simmer and cool down for a few days."

"And she's pissed I dumped _the_ Harry Potter," Ginny added with a frown. "I don't think she understands I like him more like a brother than a boyfriend now."

Fleur smiled politely, feeling she ought to bite back a nasty comment: Molly Weasley loved her children, but always felt that she needed to push them into a safe financial environment. Probably the leftovers of a life filled with bankruptcy. She herself had a good inheritance in waiting _(which she suspected had played in Molly's acceptance of her as daughter-in-law)_ , and from what she had heard, Harry Potter had a lovely vault in Gringotts.

"Glad to be a refuge in case of need," she said lightly, but genuinely.

"Bill isn't there?" Charlie asked as an afterthought. "I thought today was his day off."

"Apparently he had some late-minute work to do," Fleur replied, barely keeping the annoyance off her voice. "He won't be back until nightfall."

Charlie and Ginny exchanged puzzled glances, either at her tone or at their brother's absence. The blonde woman gritted her teeth and turned her attention to her daughter. Bill's behavior had been putting her on edge lately. Contrary to Molly's saying ( _behind her back of course_ ), she was not some empty-headed French girl. She knew something was amiss with her husband, had been since Fred's birthday. She just wished she knew what it was.

"And how is my niece doing?" she heard Charlie coo over Victoire. The baby gave her uncle a gummy grin and clapped her hands cheerfully. "Aww she's so beautiful. The very first new generation of Weasley."

"I'll go put my stuff away," Ginny warned before disappearing in the stairs leading to the first level. That left Fleur and Charlie downstairs, and the blonde woman inhaled sharply. When the second son had asked for refuge at her place, she had hoped to get a small talk with him. It shamed her to go to such lengths to get answers, but that was what she needed…answers. So she took a deep breath, crossed her arms and faced Charlie with all the determination she could muster.

"Tell me honestly, is Bill seeing someone?"

Charlie blinked in astonishment and turned away from Victoire.

"Fleur, he's crazy about you. Why do you think he'd ever do that?"

She sensed he was telling the truth. So the younger Weasley wasn't on it. She didn't know whether it should relieve or upset her even more; she desperately wanted her worries to be unfounded, but if Bill was doing something, and had been hiding it to everyone…

"Veelas have keen senses, especially where lovers are concerned," Fleur confessed, glancing at her dirty fingernails. "And I can feel that he's upset. He works all the time and he's always busying himself at home, as if he was trying hard to keep something off his mind." She stared at her brother-in-law in the eye. "He is becoming moodier by the day and he claims everything is _fine_. If he has trouble and you know about it, please tell me before I start following him and finding out what is happening on my own!"

Charlie looked perturbed by her words.

"Maybe he has trouble at work?" he suggested. "Or the twins' birthday upset him? He was closer to the twins than the rest of us."

Fleur shook her head defiantly.

"He would have told me if it was family-related. He _always_ tells me, even when he needs distance; he knows I will never judge him." She shrugged helplessly. "I just can't _stand_ it anymore."

Charlie sighed in turn and rubbed his eyes with his hand.

"I can't think of anything wrong," he replied. "I didn't read anything unusual in his letters. But I will talk to him tonight."

Fleur gave him a tired smile.

"I just hope you have more luck than I do."

They stood in silence a few moments before footsteps were heard from the stairs: Ginny was stumbling back, dressed muggle-style.

"I completely forgot," she started, "but I need to stop by Luna's house to get something. I told her I'd go at her place today."

Fleur gave her a wave.

"It's alright; Bill usually comes home around eight. Say hello to Luna for me."

Ginny smiled and walked out the door hurriedly. Fleur turned back her attention to Charlie and smiled more genuinely.

"Let me get you some tea," she offered, and her brother-in-law leaned out his arm for her to grasp. Both headed towards the kitchen, and Fleur hoped today would be better than the past few.

 **The Eldest Weasley**

Ginny was angry. No, she was seething. She liked Fleur, she really did, but when she overheard her suspicions about…about…She left out an angry cry: Bill was _not_ a cheater. How could Fleur suspect such a thing? He was her husband, an honest man who worked hard while she kept Victoire safe and sound. They had fought through the war together, had a child together, didn't that matter?

She activated a Portkey to London and slipped through the Leaky Cauldron's entrance. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause a scandal, so she would go to Bill's office and ensure with her own eyes that he was working there, and then spit the truth to her sister-in-law. Diagon Alley wasn't crowded at mid-afternoon, and Bill had showed her a shortcut to get access to his office. Gringotts had three doors; the main entrance for the clients, the Goblin door and the Staff door. Both goblin and wizards used the two latter, but tradition wanted that the Staff door led faster to the few wizards' offices held there. Ginny knocked and the door was opened by a dark-haired witch wearing glasses:

"Hello, I'm William Weasley's sister," Ginny introduced herself. "May I see him?"

The witch frowned.

"Sorry Miss Weasley, today is Bill's day off. Shouldn't he be home?"

At first, Ginny thought it might be a mistake. Don't jump to conclusions, her mind supplied; this might just be a misunderstanding.

"Oh," she said instead, changing tactics. "But I was supposed to meet him here…"

The witch's frown deepened, as if she was thinking hard.

"You should try Luton town," she suggested. "I know he had been there a lot lately."

"Thank you," Ginny said with a nod. "Do you know any useful place to start with using the floo?"

The witch gave her a few instructions and the young woman returned to the Leakey Cauldron. A green pinch of floo later, and she found herself in another town she had yet visited. Taking a deep breath, Ginny analyzed her situation. Her _ridiculous_ situation, might she add. She was running after her brother, whom his wife suspected having trouble or cheating, and she firmly believed this was an absurd mistake. Although now, she had no idea where he might be. Deciding she had nothing to lose, she cast a 'point-me' spell, focusing on Bill. Her wand pointed north, so she followed suit.

A few minutes later, she found herself in a very muggle part of Luton, not that the magical community was that large to begin with, in what appeared to be a touristic area. Her wand led her to a mostly crowded area, where muggles were loudly speaking at tables in front of coffees, drinking whatever things were into those multicolor glasses. Had her family's hair not been so distinctive, she would have never spotted the familiar man sitting on the far end of a terrace. What she saw though was not what she expected. Ginny froze, startled at the scene unfolding in front of her very eyes. Bill was there alright, sitting at a muggle's café, across a woman. And he was _beaming_ like she had just given him the moon. The other woman was gorgeous; a redhead with curves to die for and a pretty face. She was tentatively smiling in turn, looking distant, but definitively pleased. And they were holding hands over the table.

Fleur's words came back full force and fueled Ginny's already simmering anger and bitterness. Fleur was right; Bill was hiding something, and that something was a woman. The young woman huffed angrily and walked forwards, fully determined to give him a piece of her mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**I had a few questions about Natasha's status as a witch. Those will be answered on due time (in a couple chapters), but I am curious to hear any theories if you have if you feel like sharing :)**

 **BillyBobJoey:** I could and I did :) Cause it was fun ^^

 **Jas:** Thanks! :D

 **Guest 1:** Hee thanks!

 **Guest 2:** I guess they were prejudiced with the Veela blood and all? Didn't like Molly's reaction most…Thanks for the review :3

 **And many thanks to Blue for her speed-betaing xD**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **4.**

Bill had been pacing nervously the whole day, keeping track of every person walking by. Nearly every evening since they had last parted, he had returned to this place in Luton to ensure he wouldn't miss her. He was pretty sure he would be able to sense her if she returned, but he didn't want to miss her, just in case. They had parted that last time on a bittersweet note **,** but at least he had her word she would give him the results whenever they may come. She had warned him it would take a month or more to get them, muggle technology being slower than magic.

It was driving him crazy. And it was driving _Fleur_ crazy.

He hadn't wanted to tell his wife about Hemina; hadn't wanted to sound like a foolish man running after a ghost ( _which he probably was_ ). Hemina was his secret to keep, his mission to follow. Including Fleur into this was making it…impersonal. And after carrying alone the memory of his sister, he wanted to bring it back. Alone. Even if it drove tensions between him and his wife. He just hoped Fleur would show herself understanding once he explained.

The pull activated and Bill nearly jumped as he sensed Hemina's presence in town. He swallowed and headed to 'their' café, fighting the urge to bite his fingernails. Five minutes later, she showed up. She was wearing a blue jeans and a black jacket today, hair loose over her shoulders. People glanced at her as she stepped by, and Bill sort of understood Auror Dan's previous statement about him cheating. Had he not been persuaded she was his Hemina, he would have to admit she was very attractive. That and she had a particular charisma that intrigued him…

"I have ten minutes to spare," she said as a way of greeting. "After that I really need to leave."

Bill immediately focused back on her, not bothering to ask why. She pulled the chair and took a seat around the small table. He followed her example and watched her intensely.

"So?" he said nervously. The woman's face remained blank, which he couldn't decipher as being a good or a bad sign.

"We are related," she blurted, eyeing her fingernails.

Bill's relief was short-lived; he remembered her apparent lack of enthusiasm at the news. Her avoiding his gaze was another sign she might not want to keep contact.

"I –I'm glad," he said, feeling stupid the moment the words left his mouth. The woman didn't seem to notice. "I mean, I'm happy I was right. I don't know what –I thought –you've been missing so many years, I'm just glad you're…alive."

He stopped talking, feeling more and more of an idiot. Of course she didn't want to hear him babble; maybe she didn't even want to spend more time with him. Maybe she would turn her back and leave, and he would have to live with the knowledge of her being alive and nothing else. That woman had her own life; what right did he have to turn her world upside down? Moreover, she hadn't met any of the other Weasleys. Bill nearly slapped himself at the thought; how would his siblings react to the news of a long lost sister suddenly found? How would his parents react after all these years?

"I'll understand if it's too sudden," he said reluctantly, his insides screaming 'no, no, no, don't say it'. "If you don't want to-"

"Last time I said we ' _shouldn't'_ " she interrupted dryly. "Not that I didn't _want_ to." She closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. "Sorry. I just –I just don't know what I should do."

Hope made him peek up and tense at the same time.

"I –I'm not sure what to do either," he said honestly. "Maybe we could just…I don't know, meet from time to time?"

"I'm not often on British soil," she remarked much to his disarray.

"Then we'll keep the visits for whenever you do come," Bill went on, determined not to be put off by her attempts. He hadn't found her after over twenty years to lose her so soon. "I really want to keep contact with you. It's been…" his voice trailed off. "A very long time."

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she repeated, seemingly to herself. "I never really had a family to begin with," she went on, the words reluctantly leaving her mouth, as if she was confessing a deep secret. "But I -I'll roll with it. I want to know how it feels like."

Bill watched her attempts to school her expression carefully, the weight of her words dawning on him. She never had a family. She was willing to renew with them. He hoped this could be a good beginning. They stared at each other for a moment. When none seemed to know what to do, Bill held out his hand and re-introduced himself:

"William Weasley. Bill, for friends and family."

The redhead smiled, slightly bemused, but took his hand and replied:

"Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, for pretty much everyone."

Her name was Natasha. Not Hemina, but Natasha. He couldn't hold back a beaming smile; at this point names didn't matter anymore: his Nana was back.

"WILLIAM WEASLEY!"

Every bit of his body tensed because of the two words and the disbelief at who was speaking them. When he turned around, he spotted-

"Ginny?" he called in disbelief. What was she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be at the Burrow? Or with Fleur or whoever? Just – _not here_?

"How _could_ you!" she spat angrily, drawing the attention of many bystanders at once. "Fleur has been worried sick waiting for you at home while you've been here all this time with a- a…damn you _idiot_!"

"Ginny," he tried to interrupt. Her outburst was drawing attention: people around were glancing and whispering judgmentally. And the last thing he needed was to draw attention to them, especially after Auror Dan's intervention not too long ago. His only consolation was that they had again met in a muggle area; not many wizards would be likely to recognize them.

"No –shut up, just shut up, you bloody asshole and sorry excuse of a husband!" She turned towards Natasha. "And you! Did you know he is married?"

Natasha barely blinked.

"I am aware of it."

If possible, Ginny's skin turned a deeper shade of red. Bill had the childish temptation to hide under the table and wait until the storm passed: beware the Molly Temper. Still, he didn't want to expose Natasha to his sister's wrath and opened his mouth to talk her down. A kick in his shin under the table brought his attention to Natasha who was subtly shaking her head. Bill blinked in disbelief: did she want his sister to spill her fuel first? Had she any idea of the temper women had in their family?

"You –you _whore_!" Ginny yelled, and went on sputtering unflattering terms under the disapproving eyes of spectators and in particular a mother and her children watching with impressed wide eyes.

Once the young woman seemed to have emptied her bag, Natasha kept staring at her in the eye, clearly unimpressed, and asked evenly:

"Are you done with your tantrum?" Ginny narrowed her eyes at her and the woman added on the same calm tone: "Good. I'm not his mistress."

"Then who are you?" the young woman hissed angrily before turning towards her brother. "Bill?"

"I –" the words got stuck in his throat. His parents' hurt faces resurfaced and split-second guilt held him back from the most obvious answer. "It's complicated."

"Why is it complicated?" Ginny snapped in turn. "She's a woman, you've been seeing her in Fleur's back and you claim you haven't been sleeping with her?"

Maybe it was the accumulation of emotions that triggered it, this happiness at finding Hemina –or rather Natasha- mixed with the anxiety of Ginny not understanding. But in the end, the words sputtered out of his mouth before he could hold them back:

"That would be awfully incestuous, given that she's our elder sister."

Whatever Ginny was about to say, the retort was stuck in her mouth and she stared at them in shock.

" _What_?"

Across the table, Natasha had her eyebrow raised in amusement. Bill sighed heavily and motioned an empty chair nearby.

"Sit down. I'll explain."

Ginny remained right where stood, still stunned.

"Is that a bloody joke?" she asked, voice barely audible. He couldn't tell whether she was boiling in anger, too stunned to articulate, or in perfect disbelief. Perhaps all three?

"No it's not, now please sit Ginny, you're attracting a crowd." The teenager didn't budge. He eventually gave in: "Long story short, mom and dad thought she was dead. I found about her a few months ago. Now can you take a seat?"

She wasn't done, and stared at Natasha.

"And you believe him?"

"Genealogical tests and my kind of verification say I should. Sit _now_." Natasha ordered with a no-shit-business tone that even made _him_ straighten on reflex. Miraculously Ginny pulled a chair and obeyed. Natasha reported her attention on him: "You haven't told anyone you've found me yet?"

"It's more complicated than that," he replied uneasily. They hadn't gone into the specifics of his –their –family yet, he hadn't wanted to frighten or disappoint her too soon. How do you explain to your long lost sibling that nearly no-one knew she existed? "I'm the only one…how can I say this…mom and dad weren't keen on keeping you alive in our memories. Charlie was too young to remember you and they thought I've forgotten." He stared at his hands, embarrassed. "I didn't know if you were truly alive until recently. I didn't want to give them false hope, or hurt them in case I was wrong."

"Fair enough," Natasha replied with an understanding nod. Conversation was slowly picking up in the background, but most people kept sending them odd looks from time to time. A waiter at the far end was hesitating to either send them off or ignore the whole affair. A client caught his attention in the end, and he dropped the matter. The redhead turned her attention on the teenager: "I take it you had no idea?"

Ginny swallowed hard, staring at the table. It took her a few moments to peek up and glance at Natasha with curiosity.

"Are you really a Weasley?" she asked on a much more subdued tone.

"Blood test and muggle test," Bill replied for both. "Ask mom and dad who is Hemina next time you see them."

Let them deal with the revelation, he thought grimly. They sure had yet to explain his outburst at Georges and Fred's birthday, so he didn't feel too bad about it.

Natasha glanced at her watch.

"Sorry William, I really have to go. I have a plane to catch; I'm needed in New York."

"In America?" Bill asked on impulse, trying not to slap himself for the stupid question and at the same time to beam too hard at her calling him 'William'. It was a far cry from Willy, but it would do for now. Natasha nodded.

"I travel a lot and I originally live in the United States," she said as a matter of explanation. "Our first meeting was just pure coincidence and I'm here on personal time, but my boss' indulgence goes so far," She hesitated again: "I didn't lie when I said I'm not often in England."

Bill refused to be let down. He had his own life too after all, but he wouldn't let the thin line between them faint again because of distance.

"Seeing you once or twice a year is better than not seeing you at all," he replied genuinely. "Do you think we might come and visit too?"

"I'd like that. Although not all at once; I saw the genealogy tree," she added with a smile. "Where do you live exactly? So we don't always have to meet up here?" she added, waving around the place.

Bill frowned.

"I'll bring you home next time from London. You need to be here if I want to lock you into our home wards anyway, so you won't have to wait for us to get you each time."

Natasha nodded and rose from her seat.

"And how should I contact you?" she asked again. Bill shrugged as he rose in turn, quickly followed by Ginny, who was still eyeing the redhead with caution.

"Just send an owl, we'll figure something out."

Again the redhead smiled and he hesitated as how to say goodbye.

"I'm sorry for calling you a slut." Ginny suddenly said. "I shouldn't have; it was rude."

"I've been called worse; not to mention you had circumstances on your side." Natasha replied flippantly, shrugging. "Until next time, William. It was nice to meet you Ginny."

One last wave and she was off. The two siblings lost track of her as she melt into the crowd easily, but Bill still felt the presence of their bond. As she walked away it faded, but not as strongly as it used to. This time, he knew distance would be the reason it barely simmered.

"She said she was using a 'plane'?" Ginny's voice pulled him back to reality. "Isn't that muggle transportation?"

Bill shrugged.

"I have a feeling she has been living in the muggle world for a long time," he said, not wanting to speak of her odd behavior during their first meetings. She had behaved somewhat like she had just discovered magic, but was doing a heck of a job covering it. "I suppose that's something we could talk about next time."

He didn't care how long it would take; she would be back, he knew it this time.

"I have a thousand questions, but you better first return home and explain everything to Fleur and Charlie. They are growing suspicious of you."

Ginny's words made Bill blink and stare at her in disbelief.

"Charlie's _here_?"

"He and I are staying for the weekend since Mom doesn't want him at home, and I need to get away." Ginny narrowed his eyes: "Don't tell me you've forgotten already?"

And Bill knew he was in for a very long night.

 **TEW**

Practice with moving targets was usually fun, especially when she paired up with Clint. They had been trying to break their score for months now, hitting faster and always more accurately.

"So when do I get to meet him?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her partner as he aimed and shot at another target suddenly jumping in front of him. It didn't take her too long to connect the dots.

"So you can intimidate the hell out of him? Get lost, it's supposed to work the other way round."

He chuckled.

"We're not dating, are we?"

"Last time I checked, we weren't," she muttered, aiming at another target. In old Clint fashion, he didn't give up:

"So what's the big deal? I'm not going to eat him whole."

Natasha shot twice at a jumping target.

"I want to keep him for myself right now," she admitted, watching as it fell under the impact of her bullets. Her newfound brother was a novelty that only _belonged_ to her, the only relationship she would allow herself to entertain outside of SHIELD's prying eyes. She hadn't given much thought on her sister and wouldn't mention her to Clint yet. Contrary to William, she didn't feel any type of connection with Ginny. "I'll introduce you to him, eventually."

The promise seemed to be enough for the archer. He seemed to sense Natasha was truthful about that point; blood brother or not, Clint was her closest friend and she wanted him to meet William. Just…not now.

"Can I at least have a name, so that I can call him something else than Tasha's Brother in my head?"

"William," she retorted before shooting a bullseye in a new target. Even over the noise, she could still hear his snort.

"How typically English."

"Hemina isn't, and that was mine."

The archer paused in his shooting and raised an eyebrow.

"Hemina?" he repeated. "Is that how we're going to call you now?"

"I said _was_. I'm far too used to your idiotic 'Tasha' now," she said dully, but was smiling inside. Clint was the first to ever dare give her a nickname of any sort. "And think of all the paperwork to recover a legal name?"

"Yeah, you're right. And it might be better if you stayed dead, at least officially," he carried on naturally. "When are you meeting the rest of the family?"

"Half of it doesn't even know I exist," she muttered under her breath. "And the other half thinks I'm dead."

"Why don't you just show up and introduce yourself?"

Natasha would have pointed out that normal people didn't show up and introduce themselves before realized that was something _he_ might have done in her place.

"It's a peculiar situation Clint," she opted for the diplomatic answer instead.

"Magic?"

Of course he would take the bait. She sighed heavily, wishing he hadn't brought that up. Come to think of it, it truly was miraculous that he had held out that long on the matter. The last time, he had merely sounded a bit smug at surprising her. Now his tone felt more curious.

"Yeah, magic."

"So, are you a witch?"

Natasha rolled her eyes in mild exasperation.

"Can we talk about this elsewhere?"

The moving targets stopped moving and Clint turned quiet. They walked out of the ring, put the weaponry back into place, and headed out. Natasha hadn't lied when she had told William she had a 'work' to do. Fury had just postponed it for a week after her original target had managed to bomb himself by accident. In the meantime, he had managed to send her a file on her next target: Tony Stark. It appeared that she would not return to England before long. Now all she needed to do was to figure out what William had meant by 'sending him an owl'. And the only reason she hadn't asked William…well, she did recall the rather radical reaction from the other wizard. Her lack of knowledge of his world would be a huge handicap until she learned more.

In silent agreement, they took the car, and drove back to Clint's place. They always did before a mission, should circumstances allowed it. Not to mention she was to get ready for the mission starting in two days. But she felt she hadn't been hanging a lot with her partner lately, and since he was so keen on speaking magic, she might learn a thing or two before leaving.

"So, are you a witch?" Clint repeated his question the moment the front door was closed.

Clint's apartment was small; just a kitchen/living room, bedroom and bathroom, but Natasha liked it there. The decoration was sparse, more of a dropout than a home, but comfy and reassuring.

"Hell I know," she muttered, falling flat on his couch. "I've never done weird stuff in your back, have I?"

"Nothing I can consider magical. Although how you fit in those catsuits might be considered abnormal," Clint replied with a teasing grin. She sent him a playful glare.

"That is keeping a close eye on what I eat and the exercise I do," she retorted. "Something you might consider starting." Natasha eyed his stomach insistently.

"Aw, I knew you cared!" he retorted shamelessly before sobering. "Stop dropping the subject Tash, I am serious."

"So am I," she replied dryly. "I had no idea until I met William. And how do _you_ know about witches and the rest?"

Clint shrugged and fell besides her on the couch. He leaned back comfortably, head tilted on the side, contemplating her.

"Back in the circus, there were those weird folks that tagged along for a while. The whole family dressed weirdly and didn't show but they'd sell potions and stuff that cured faster than any medicine so the old man let them stay. They owned two owls and three cats –the cats were weird as shit too, always staring like they wanted to –dunno, maul you or something."

"That's a cat prerogative," Natasha interrupted dryly. "There is nothing magical in that."

"Anyway," he went on as if she hadn't interrupted him. "One day there's that huge storm and Barney locked me out –he was drunk or something. So I run to the closest trailer and bam! I stumble upon the Wiz doing some weird mojo, and their trailer is intact. Like, the weather isn't impacting their stuff at _all_. One of the Wiz let me in and I spend the night watching them prepare their potions and stuff. And the youngest –his name was Connor I think –comes and we chat for a bit. Then he tells his whole family is magical and promptly shows off by levitating stuff." Pause. Small grin. "It freaked me out big time, but hey it was kinda cool." His face sobered. "Next day, the Wiz had vanished and nearly no-one remembered them. Just me, actually. Never saw them again."

He stared back at her.

"I don't actually care if you are a witch, it doesn't matter much in the end," he admitted. "Call me curious, but I wanted to meet them again. I'm pretty sure I kept my memories intact thanks to Connor. Not that anyone would have believed me in the first place."

"And you never asked SHIELD?"

"And risk Fury checking my mental health? Nah, I'm good. You being one of them actually makes me feel better. Least I know I was right and not hallucinating."

"Glad to be of service," she replied sarcastically. Something he said puzzled her though. If she was a witch, shouldn't she be receptive to any kind of spells? The man, back with William, had tried to erase her memory. It had failed, much to William's surprise –and apparent relief. Still, she hadn't missed the intrigued glint in his eye. The lack of effect was unplanned; she should have forgotten her encounter with her…sibling.

That would be something to consider mentioning, next time she saw him. If magic worked on everyone, if it had its limits, how he used magic…she supposed she could blame her ignorance on her lack of memories after her kidnapping. Natasha felt William would be more than understanding, given the circumstances. Pushing that thought aside, she faced her partner and asked seriously:

"I don't suppose you know where I can get an owl to send a message?"


	6. Chapter 6

**I have two things to blame for the lateness. Three actually. 1 Real Life, 2 Outlander, 3 Blindspot. The first is unfortunately, unavoidable, the second was introduced by a good friend of mine and I just fell in love with the third. So now that those two shows are done airing, I'm trying to get back on tracks ^^"**

 **Many thanks to those who reviewed, favorite, and followed this story! (I won't take as long to post next time and I** _ **will**_ **reply to reviews next chapter, promiiiise.)**

 **And many thanks to Blue for beta-ing this chapter!**

* * *

 **The Eldest Weasley**

 **5**

Natasha had been undercover for three weeks when the owl arrived.

At first, she nearly shot the bird. In her defense, it was late when she returned to her apartment and she had been dealing with an immature Stark and a pissed-off Pepper all day long. She had been distracted enough to mistake an oddly-shaped shadow against her window for an intruder. By the time the knife had left her hand and embedded itself into the wall just below the owl's claws **,** where a man's torso would have stood **,** she had realized her mistake.

Thankfully, the bird did nothing more than jump and hoot indignantly. It was an Eurasian eagle-owl, she recognized the species from a documentary she had been viewing on Clint's couch during a take-out night. She slowly turned on the light and stepped closer. The owl's round orange eyes stared at her unblinkingly. When she opened the window, it stretched its leg and showed a letter attached to it.

"Send an owl, I didn't realize that was literal," Natasha muttered, watching said bird standing immobile on the border of her window. "Did you really fly from London to here?"

The owl blinked and hooted in a proudly fashion; head high and expressive eyes set on her. Bright orange eyes, like a blazing fire. Natasha reported her attention on the letter and unfolded it. As she expected, it came from William.

' _Natasha,_

 _I had a feeling you didn't have an owl for correspondence, so I took the liberty of buying you a welcome back to the family present. She's an Eagle-owl, one of the largest and used to cover long distances. Since you said you travel a lot, this one will be able to fly across countries regularly. She has not been named yet, so feel free to choose one for her. I hope your job doesn't keep you too busy._

 _Write whenever you can._

 _Your brother,_

 _William.'_

The words spread a warm feeling in her mind and made her smile. _Your brother._ She had a brother now. Family. She couldn't tell him anything about her job, couldn't get into details about her past, but she still had a _brother_.

And a whole bunch of people she was blood-related to, she reminded herself. The genealogical tree promptly appeared in her mind: William, Charles, Perceval, Fred, George, Ronald and Ginny. Six – _five_ , she corrected mentally- living siblings. And two living parents. God, what had William told them? How was she supposed to react when she met them? And what was she supposed to tell SHIELD?

First things first, she decided as she turned her attention back to the owl. The night predator had no name, had most likely spent hours flying down to America to deliver a letter.

"I suppose you're hungry?" she asked, wondering if the bird understood her. It hooted impatiently and waited for her to step aside to fly in. It landed on the back of a nearby chair, claws easily penetrating the cushioned side of the furniture. Then, its head turned at a 180 degree angle and stared unblinkingly, waiting. Natasha rolled her eyes and headed towards the fridge. What did owls eat anyway? She did a quick search on the net and decided to sacrifice some raw steak she had bought earlier today, in case Clint decided to pop in unexpectedly. The owl eyed the meat displayed in a dish with curiosity and chi **r** ped before landing on it, and tearing it apart savagely.

Natasha thought the scene fascinating and disgusting at the same time. Then, as droplets of blood flew all over the place, she remembered it was a very good thing she didn't have white carpet in the living room ( _the stains would be impossible to wash out_ ).

The owl finished its meal leaving no crumb behind, and went back to staring at her for all its worth.

Natasha poured some water in a small cup and set it on the table besides the bloody plate. The owl drank and returned to staring.

This was getting old very fast.

"You need a name." She muttered to herself, watching the fiery yellow-orange eyes. They seemed unnaturally round, like the light of a circular bulb. Something related to fire? "What about Ogon? It means fire in Russian." The owl gave her a scandalized expression. "I take it's a no," she muttered, partly annoyed, partly amused. The feathers over its eyebrows seemed to give it a very austere glare. "Governess? You have that stern look of an angry-" If possible its eyes rounded even more in outrage. "Fine, fine," she capitulated, barely hiding a smile. She would have never thought owls could be so expressive. As if echoing her thought, the owl hooted and closed one eye in complete disinterest. Natasha stared at the bird in shock, the resemblance too uncanny to be ignored.

"Fury." The owl blinked and crocked its neck on the side. Natasha cleared her throat, thinking it might be idiotic addressing a bird like a human, but still felt compelled to do so. "I'll name you Fury."

She waited, wondering if the bird would show any sign of approval or disagreement. After a few moments, the owl hooted smugly and closed both eyes. The beak made an odd smirk-like shape, and Natasha concluded this was approval.

"Right," she went on talking to herself. "So you are fed and watered –I'm leaving the window open if you need to go out, don't crap on the carpet," she addressed Fury. The owl hooted in response and took it upon itself to clean its wings. "You do that…" Natasha's eyes wandered over William's letter. "I will write a reply."

Fury ignored her mumblings, so she picked up a pen and paper and settled on the table. Her report would wait for once; her brother was awaiting an answer.

 **TEW 2 months later TEW**

Fleur was mending one of Victoire's shirts when she heard a happy whoop downstairs. When she glanced through the window, she recognized the large owl that had just landed on their fence. Seeing her husband cheerfully untying the letter on Fury's leg made her smile. Ever since this unknown sister had returned into his life, Bill had completely changed. He seemed lighter, happier in a way she had yet to see.

She could remember the shock she felt –and the equally stunned expression on Charlie's face- when Bill had revealed the existence of Natasha Romanoff. At first, she hadn't believed him, but Ginny's support and a genealogical spell from Charlie's blood had been sufficient to convince them. That evening had been a very long one, spent in talks and explanations and memories. And Fleur had understood why he had been so upset at George's birthday and up until now. While she still felt irked at his lack of communication, she had been curious about this unknown family member. She had even suggested her husband to buy an owl to ensure their written correspondence.

That might have been their best idea yet. The Eagle-owl had cost more than she had expected, but seeing her husband's smile the first time he had received a reply had been worth every galleon.

She abandoned her needlework and walked down the staircase, wondering about her sister-in-law's letter. So far, nothing much had been said. Their exchanges were still shy and superficial, her words particularly evasive, but genuinely happy. Fleur hoped they would meet sooner-or-later; she wouldn't mind having another friend amongst the Weasley tribe. Not to mention, someone naming an owl Fury must have an interesting view on things.

Bill was studying the newly arrived letter with attention, his forehead frowning just like anytime he was deep in thoughts. Curiosity got the best of her.

"What does she say?" she asked. Her husband glanced briefly at her and smiled.

"She's traveling to Europe in the next few weeks for a car race in Monaco. She's asking if we'd be interested in joining her for diner. On the muggle side."

Ah, Fleur thought, there it was. The one small spot that made Bill uneasy was Natasha's complete assimilation of the muggle world. She had confessed in one of her previous letters that she actually knew very little of the magical world. She hadn't actually known herself to be a witch until he had approached her. When Fleur had suggested she might be a Squib, Bill had refuted her theory: in his memories, Hemina had been perfectly capable of using magic. They had agreed they wouldn't debate on that matter until they stood face-to-face again, but she could tell it weighed on Bill's mind. She knew he thought himself responsible for her disappearance, even though he had been a child at the time, and that her lack of magic might have been a direct consequence of the fire she had survived.

"I've never been to the muggle side of Monaco," Fleur replied, refusing to let Natasha's offer distress her husband. "I heard it's a beautiful city."

Bill smiled at her, acknowledging her meaning.

"I should be able to take some time off," he said. "Gringotts doesn't need me right now."

"Should I ask Molly to care for Victoire while we are gone?" she wondered. Her daughter had been restless lately and she didn't want her to make a magical fuss, especially if they were to wander amongst muggles.

"Maybe," Bill replied distractedly. "I don't –I don't think we should tell them Hemina's still alive. Not yet anyway."

"Why's that?"

He lowered the letter and shrugged.

"Just a feeling they won't accept her. The war and Fred's loss is still raw." He pressed his lips together. "They haven't spoken of her in over twenty years. They can wait a few months more."

Fleur contemplated her husband quietly. He hadn't spoken to his parents since the twins' birthday.

"Alright," she conceded. "Why don't you write back and you two set up a date?"

Bill smiled in relief and did just that.

 **TEW**

Fleur had never seen a car race. Being a wizard and not remotely interested in the muggle world, she had never seen the point in using them. Now, cars were everywhere around them, running down the streets, spewing out smoke and odors she wasn't used to. It was a good thing they had left Victoire behind, she decided. The poor girl would have never been able to stand the noise, the crowd and the cheers. They were far less loud as they approached the circuit, but the people were more compact, cheering at the screen transmitting a direct view of the cars racing. The event in itself still didn't interest her, but she was fascinated how popular it seemed to be.

"She's somewhere over there," Bill said, nearly shouting to make himself heard. Fleur followed him, marveling at his ability to navigate through the crowd. He had explained on their way that he and Natasha had this sense that permitted them to converge one towards the other. That same link that had reunited them months ago was particularly useful now.

It still took them fifteen minutes of walking further, and Fleur was starting to wonder how accurate that sense was when her attention latched upon a redhead woman. She, too, was heading in their direction, mindless of the crowd. Fleur watched as Bill's smile widened happily and he increased the speed of his pace. So this was Natasha, she thought. Ginny had described a gorgeous woman with plenty of curves and greenish-bluish eyes. She had also mentioned she looked nothing like any of the Weasley's.

Fleur could now concur, but for different reasons. She had told Charlie Veelas had keen senses when their lovers were concerned. She hadn't mentioned that those senses applied to other people, although not as keenly. She could grasp a fragment of their feelings, particularly useful when she used her allure to seduce an unsuspecting victim. This woman though…she felt nothing. No aura, no emotion, nothing. Her sole presence was negating everything around her, like an impermeable shield. The one time Fleur had ever faced this feeling was…

"And this is Fleur, my wife," Bill announced proudly. Fleur merely stared at the woman standing in front of her. A friendly face, a hint of a smile. She didn't look hostile, rather hopeful and expectant even.

"Bill told me a lot about you," she said, her deep husky voice sending uneasy chills down her spine.

The Veil. The Veil in the Department of Mysteries. She had that exact uneasiness standing besides the mysterious structure.

Fleur forced herself to smile as naturally as she could.

"Likewise," she replied and was glad her voice sounded steady and pleasant. She added genuinely: "I've wanted to meet you for weeks now."

Natasha shrugged.

"I'm sorry, my job takes a lot of my time. I hope we can remedy that in the future."

"Of course," Fleur agreed. The uneasiness lingered and she couldn't explain it. Her instincts were warning her to stay away from that woman, and they had never failed her before. Still, this was Bill's sister, her sister-in-law, and she seemed nice enough. So, for the first time in her life, she pushed away the warning and followed them to the muggle restaurant.

* * *

 **Till next time!**


	7. AN READ PLEASE

**Dear readers,**

 **As you might have noticed, it has been embarrassingly long since I've published anything concerning the Harry Potter xo Avengers universe. My first reason is the lack of time and opportunity (life has been a b*tch lately and I have a bit more to worry about than focus on writing stories; though I probably shouldn't have started all four at once). The second reason is much simpler; I completely lack motivation to keep on going with the Marvel-verse. The last movies, while pretty awesome, completely drained any interest I had in that universe (fine, I admit the Clint/Laura pairing completely butchered it with time).**

 **Maybe I'll pick up where I left someday but it won't be until a really long time, and I am the first to be frustrated at an unfinished fic. The trouble is, I have the plot, I just don't have the words to put it down.**

 **As a compromise, I figured might as well post a draft of what I had intended to write. If anyone is interested by continuing what I've started, feel free to PM me to let me know.**

 **Many thanks and apologies to those who have favorite, reviewed and followed this story up till now; I'm sorry I couldn't go till the end.**

 **Special thanks to Blue for her beta-proof work at light speed.**

* * *

 **New York**

 _Ginny is curious about her new sister and takes advantage of Percy going to New York for a week to follow him and track Natasha down. Natasha just stopped working for Stark and gets Ginny's letter. She agrees to spend a few days with her. They go shopping and play tourists. Ginny tells her she reminds her of Bill but in a female way. She's also glad she returned into Bill's life because she had never seen him so happy before, and she hopes they will get along in the future. Natasha brings her to a nightclub on their last evening before she needs to return on a new mission._

The music was heavy and so loud she could feel her ears ring and the bass vibrating in her chest. Wizards had their own music, their own band, but Ginny had to admit that muggle discothèques were one of a kind. They could shake their bodies –there was no way she would call this dancing –in the dark, under laser lights, and no-one would give a care. So she imitated the closest person, raised her arms in the air and bounced to the rhythm. From the corner of the eye, she could see Natasha moving gracefully, her body twisting in waves, as a man came to stand behind her and follow the motion.

Ginny was caught off-guard when her sister allowed him to put a hand on her hips and bring her back against his front, both swinging in synchronization. Natasha's arm went backwards and wrapped around the man's neck, pulling his face into her hair. The teenager wondered whether she knew him or if he was a complete stranger, she couldn't recall if Natasha had mentioned a boyfriend –or if this was custom among muggles to share themselves in that way.

She kept moving, keeping an eye on the couple, and soon was caught up in the mood and forgot momentarily about them. Natasha was a grown woman after all, she could look after herself. Not to mention that the man was, from what she could see, rather good-looking. As long as she didn't forget to bring her home…

 _Natasha drives Ginny back to the hotel, where Percy is expecting her. Though Natasha recognizes him, she introduces herself as a friend of Bill's. She returns with Clint, who saw Percy, and thanks him for covering for her the past few days at SHIELD. Clint jokes he expects to meet the family properly one day and she kisses him._

 **The Avengers - Bill's house**

 _The parents and Georges are visiting him when Molly asks an unexpected question:_

"Tell me Bill," Molly said, approaching her oldest son. "Who is Natasha?"

Bill blinked twice and stared at his mother.

"What?"

"Percy said she was a friend of yours…and Ginny has a lot of compliments about her," the woman went on, only to be interrupted by Georges:

"You mean she won't shut up about her?" he said with a light grin, and added for his brother's information: "I don't know how a muggle managed to seduce our little sis. What's her secret?"

Bill rolled his eyes. He was at least hoping to keep Natasha's presence for himself a while longer.

"Ginny met her last time she came to our house. They spent a couple days shopping in the muggle side of New York, that's all I know."

"That explains the unexpected pile of clothes in her closet." Ron muttered.

"Gold has a lot of value in the muggle world. I think she just exchanged a galleon in pounds." Bill explained, not wanting to tell them that Natasha had actually paid the bill. He still wasn't sure if she had been trying to win over his –their- younger sister over or just having fun. Maybe a bit of both.

 _The moment is interrupted by someone ringing at the doorbell. Natasha is there, looking panicked but composed. She has come to his house before briefly, so he isn't surprised to see her there._

"Natasha? What-"

"I need your help." She interrupted before he could speak more. "It's a long story but-" she paused as Arthur Weasley stepped in the background, eyes wide and mouth half-opened. Bill saw her take in who he was, wondered if he should intervene or say something. But after her face drained of colors she ignored him entirely and focused back on him. "Clint's in trouble. I didn't want to get you involved, but I don't know who might be able to help on that one and my boss is one stubborn idiot."

"It involves magic?"

She nodded, still avoiding Weasley senior's curious gaze.

"I can't tell you too much right now," she added. "But you have to come with me. If I bring you there, it'll be easier."

"Okay, let me grab some stuff, I'll be right there."

He turned around, halfway expecting Natasha to follow him. She didn't. He hurriedly picked his coat and his wand and was putting on his shoes when his father finally spoke:

"This is…" he started expectantly.

"Natasha," Bill shot quickly. It seemed that now was not the time for the big revelation. "Can you tell Fleur I'll be gone for…that I'm gone with Natasha? Sounds like an emergency but I guess I should be home tonight. I'll send an owl if not."

"Son, are you sure…"

"Fleur will understand," he interrupted. "Sorry for dashing out like that. Bye!" he added and darted out of the house with a wave.

 _Natasha came in a car. Bill experiences first hand her erratic driving while she explains the situation (Loki took over Clint's mind control, she just wants to have him check their Helicarrier's defenses against magic). When Bill asks what is Helicarrier, she smiles and tells him he will soon find out._

 **Helicarrier**

 _Bill and Natasha embark on a Quinjet to board on the Helicarrier. He is awed by the muggle technology and has trouble keeping his voice down, but no-one tries to approach them. They meet Maria straight after landing._

"Is there a reason why everyone steps aside when you show up?" he asked discreetly as they stepped on the platform. Natasha smirked.

"They fear me. Come, and don't answer to anyone except me. They have no business knowing who you are. Hello Maria," she added to a brunette woman who had been approaching.

"Who is he?" 'Maria' asked with both raised eyebrows.

"He's with me," Natasha replied curtly. "He specializes in magic."

The other woman's frown deepened. A slight wave of recognition fell upon her face.

"Wait a minute…Isn't he the guy you were…"

"Yep."

"Oh." She paused. "We will address this at a later date, understood?"

Natasha shrugged away the veiled order carelessly.

"Sure. What's new?"

"Banner and Rogers are on their way. Fury wants you to greet them." The brunette shot Bill a look. "Better keep the civilian out of range once you're done with…whatever you have planned for him."

"I will Maria," Natasha assured her and led her brother away at fast pace. Bill followed her swiftly; he couldn't figure out why exactly, but something in 'Maria''s inquisitive look made him uncomfortable. Natasha didn't speak until they were approaching the closest door. "Stay away from the one named Banner," she warned. "He might not look like much, but you don't want him angry."

"Oh?"

She didn't offer more information and promptly moved forwards.

 _Natasha introduces him to her boss Fury –he briefly wonders if there is any reference with Fury the owl –who makes clear he won't be staying long. They show him the cage in which they intended to lock Loki and asks him to test it against magic interference._

"Would you mind trying?"

Bill stared at the cage and apparated inside. He left the premise just as easily. Fury's disgusted expression nearly made him laugh.

"I'm a curse breaker, but I could probably put up wards to enclose magic." He offered, checking the cage and touching its glass. "Is this recorded?" He suddenly asked, alarmed, "I'm not supposed to…"

"I ordered the feed to be cut when we entered the room," Natasha interrupted. "Only level 9 agents will be allowed to visualize the backup –which means not many people. Director Fury, Deputy Director Hill, Agent Coulson and myself will be the only one to know."

"Since when do you order around my agents, Romanoff?"

"Since my only living relative has set foot on the stage. I told you, Director, the moment we have our intel, I am sending him back home. And he is not coming close to any of them."

 _Bill keeps close to Natasha while on the Helicarrier. He gets a few annoyed looks when people try to talk about confidential subjects with his sister, but since he doesn't understand much, occupies himself by admiring the machines and reflects that the magical world is far behind on muggle inventions. Natasha leaves for a mission, he is asked to stay in the control room, from which he admires the view. SHIELD agents ask if he and the 'Widow' are related. When he asks who is 'Widow', Maria arrives and explains his sister is one of their best agents, mostly because she has a unique past. Bill doesn't like the way she says 'unique', though he suspects it has nothing to do with magic. He decides to ask Natasha later. She returns soon after with Loki and the others; they gather around the table for debriefing. Bill stays mostly because he wants to know how much he should report to the ministry –if they would ever believe him._

Loki brushed the glass. It turned a deep shade of purple, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise.

 _"A magical ward? You have sorcerers among you?"_

"It's supposed to contain him; he shouldn't be able to escape. That is, if his magic is similar to ours." Bill explained uneasily in the control room. All attendants stared at him. Bill squirmed under the sudden attention; he could handle wizards just fine but he had never been in contact with muggle's most advanced technology. It resembled magic so much sometimes that it made him uneasy.

"I was told you were a magic specialist, not a magic user," Stark raised. Natasha beat him to the answer.

"He studied ancient magical rituals." She half-lied smoothly. "He knows a lot about what our European ancestors call magic. Practical magic, that is."

"Interesting. If that voodoo works, I'll call to set some all around Stark Tower. In case aliens actually invade New York. Deal?"

"Uh…"

"Leave him alone Stark," Natasha intervened again, raising one perfectly still eyebrow towards the genius. Instead of biting the bait, Stark remained quiet, but still immensely interested. No doubt he'd charge when no-one was looking. Inside his cage, Loki looked perplexed, but barely so. Fury barely held back his smirk.

"How can he break away?" Rogers asked with a hint of curiosity.

"He needs to crack through the defenses rather hard -I drew several safeties and reflective shields, including one that should negate his powers, or at least, dull them. Then a self-igniting one; should he try to break through magically, they would feed on his own magic and reinforce the field." He had discovered that particular spell in Egypt; where some caves sheltered incredibly strong magical creatures. It had been one of his proudest moments. "No-one can enter or leave unless the runes are destroyed."

"Seriously Romanoff, where did you find him?" Stark asked again, too curious.

 _The meeting ends, Natasha tries to convince Bill to return to England but he won't for fear of losing her again. She forces his hand by arguing that he has done enough and she won't let Fury manipulate her more than he already does by using him. She's called to interrogate Loki on her own. Bill is being led to the bay when the Helicarrier shakes unexpectedly. He saves a few agents from falling off board thanks to magic but blacks out when he's too slow to dodge a falling metallic beam. When he wakes up, he's in the medical bay and everyone is watching the battle of New York on screen. He witnesses the Avengers in action, including his sister, and is awed and slightly afraid at how powerful Natasha truly is._

 **The Burrow**

 _Natasha brings Bill back at his parents' house. Nobody is there. Bill leads her to the attic where they kept their childhood stuff and returns downstairs. He meets Ginny and tells her Natasha is upstairs. She slips that she's up for some more sisterly time at the moment Molly enters the room. Bill then admits he found Hemina again, news to which his mother doesn't react the way he expects. In the attic, Natasha goes through the dusty boxes._

The stuffed rabbit caught her attention. Natasha slowly reached for the toy. The soft purple fur still felt soft under her fingertips, the left sewed black button eyes threatening to fall if pulled. She took it gently in one hand and stood up again. She toyed with the necktie, a green crossed tissue that had been added around the rabbit's neck for what end, she didn't know. Decoration? A fancy addition from a little girl to her toy? Her thumbs ran over the pelt. She closed her eyes and inhaled its sent. In spite of the dust, there lingered an old smell of lavender and wood. A vague tug in the back of her mind brought the memory of a laugh, a fragile picture of blue pastel wallpaper and wooden furniture.

She opened her eyes again and turned around. A large mirror stood a few feet away from where she stood, the glass reflecting her image perfectly. Natasha stepped in front of it and watched herself hug the stuffed rabbit in her arms, bringing its head under her chin.

 _A soft snore distracted her from her contemplation. Hemina stared at her twin brother lying in the middle of their mother's old robes. He was exhausted from all their playing and running in muggle London's streets. Leaving her brother sleep, she returned to stare at herself in the mirror. The purple bunny Ellen had bought her from the muggle children store felt soft in her hands and seemed to stare at her in return. A small smile grew over her lips as she hugged the plush tighter. It was hers and hers alone and she would give it all the love a little girl her age would._

Voices coming from downstairs brought Natasha back to present. She blinked at the memory and instinctively glanced around. The cellar was different of course, this wasn't the same house. The drawer that contained her mother's dresses wouldn't be there anymore, neither the low table.

She headed back to the staircase, absentmindedly keeping the bunny against her chest. It _was_ hers after all.

 _Mother and father were in the middle of an argument when she reached the lower part of the stairs. Still hugging Bunny close to herself, Hemina stopped at an angle where she could listen without them seeing her. Molly was gesturing widely, worryingly. She did that a lot lately; war was coming and their family would not go without casualties if they stayed in London. Hemina didn't get the meaning of 'war', except that it wasn't a good thing and her parents were afraid of it. This was something they couldn't control, something that_ no _-_ one _seemed to be able to control and something to fear._

 _And then she heard her name._

 _"Hemina will bring His followers to our door," her mother said. "If You-Know-Who hears about her-"_

 _"He won't have a reason to," her father countered tiredly. "Look, Molly, he has people under his orders, he leads operations. Albus said You-Know-Who is getting more powerful. He won't be interested in a little girl."_

 _"This little girl is a Pureblood and a magical prodigy," Molly argued. "If he knew what she was capable of, he will either kidnap or kill her."_

 _"And what do you suggest we do? I can't leave now, I pledged myself to the Order. I don't trust any of our family to keep her safe and even if we send her away we'll have to send Bill away with her."_

 _"You have to," her mother insisted. "She is a danger to this family."_

 _"She is your daughter, not a curse."_

 _Hemina held her bunny closer and made herself smaller in the staircase, bringing her knees under her chin._

 _"She's so strange," Molly went on. "She never shows her emotions, never cries, never laughs."_

 _"She does when she's with Bill."_

 _"And she never obeys, never listens to what I say! I can't have it anymore Arthur."_

 _Willy chose that moment to open the cellar's door and loudly walk down the steps. Both parents raised their head in direction of the noise and spotted her sitting on the stairs, watching them. Hemina kept her eyes on her mother. Her mother wanted her away because she feared her. She feared she would bring war to their family. Molly stared back, a determined expression on her face. It had occurred to the little girl before that her own mother wasn't fond of her, not that she was so afraid of her._

She stopped on the edge of the staircase, overhearing bits and pieces of an argument between a familiar voice –Ginny, and an unfamiliar one.

"I won't have a stranger under my roof! Tell her to leave at once!"

A redhead woman in her middle-ages. Vaguely familiar, an older version of the woman she had seen in her…what could they be called, flashbacks?

"But mom, she's-"

"No she isn't! Your father and I saw her body, Ginny, she was not aliv-"

A stair creaked under her weight and both women looked up. Natasha involuntarily held the stuffed rabbit closer and met the woman's eyes directly. She felt void of emotions, a familiar blankness wrap around her. The woman's eyes widened in shock and her skin turned white.

"No," she whispered. "No, you're dead."

Natasha took the few remaining steps and paused at the bottom of the stairs.

"You never did like me much as far as I recall."

Molly took a few steps back, bumping into a closet on her way and crashing the vase on top of it. She looked like she was facing a ghost, just like William not so long ago. The main difference was her brother had embraced her return. Her mother…was another story.

 _Natasha returns straight to New York without saying goodbye. She keeps the rabbit on Ginny's urging._

 **Bill's house, months later.**

 _Bill invites his siblings to officially meet Natasha, who brings Clint for moral support. Molly and Arthur decline the invitation, as does Percy since he has a last minute job to do in France. While Fleur and Ginny are happy to see her, Georges, Ron and Harry (who is invited too) are rather reluctant to welcome her. Diner is tensed, though Clint manages to amuse the Weasley's with his lack of knowledge on the magical world. Ginny suspects Georges is about to pull a prank on Natasha while Bill is in the kitchen when she sees him point his wand under the table, but before she can stop him-_

And suddenly, Ginny heard Barton hiss ' _shit'_ and he was darting on Natasha, tackling her waist down, and screaming: "Everyone out! Run _out_!"

But his words were smothered by another cry, a much deeper and pained yowling. Ginny froze in horror as she recognized Bill's voice. Ron dove out the door, not having his wand on him. Harry had pulled out his and was watching anxiously.

Barton seemed to be struggling with Natasha on the ground, the former holding the latter in a sort of headlock and whispering words in a foreign language. A split second later, Natasha had head butted him backwards and was scrambling to stand up, hand reaching for a knife. Harry cast a stunner at her, but she ducked easily and threw the knife at him. Only years on the run dodging spells saved Harry, as the blade missed his hair by an inch. And then Barton was back on her, one hand blocking her fists, the other waving a frying pan to counter her knife.

Ginny decided to obey the man's former order, pulled Harry's sleeve to the next room –the kitchen, where her brother was last heading. Bill was still screaming, hands clenched white into his hair, curled into a ball on the carpet. His face was a concentration of pain and horror and fear. And as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. Bill was still sobbing and whimpering, his whole body trembling in a way only a _Crucio_ could do. A few moments later, Barton was up and pushing the door open, a bleeding dash on his forehead. He looked pissed.

"Who did that?" he snarled, glaring at each and every one of them –except for Bill. "Who had the fucking awesome idea to cast a fucking spell on her?"

"It was just a tickling charm," Georges protested. Before his sentence was over, Barton was over him, pulling the younger man up with the sole grip of his neckline.

"When someone says, 'no magic', it's 'no magic'," he growled, his face too close of comfort. Harry and Ron took a step forward to take his defense but the man ignored them. He shoved the twin brutally backwards against the wall. "You almost got us all killed tonight."

"I didn't know she'd get nuts at the contact of a spell!"

"Tasha has PTSD, and this was a trigger. I haven't seen her that confused for years!"

"You call that confused? I call that homicidal!" Harry suddenly butted in.

Ginny blocked out the shouting and turned her attention to her older brother. Bill was still shaking, and although his eyes were still red-rimmed, he looked focused enough.

"You'll be alright?" Bill didn't answer but kept focusing on the wall, his breath slow and unsteady. She noticed the pearls of transpiration dripping over his face. "Bill, what happened?"

"It was hell," he whispered, voice broken and shaky. "What she lived through; it was hell." He paused and eyed Barton and the three others, still into their shouting match. "Where is she?" he asked softly, then louder: "Where is she?" When none replied, he shouted: _"Where the bloody hell is she!_ "

All four guys fell silent. Georges, Harry and Ron blinked as if suddenly remembering he was there. Bill had only eyes for Barton.

"I need to see her," he whispered, and slowly moved to stand. Ginny helped him stabilize. "She's…she's alive, right?"

Barton nodded and released Georges.

"Unconscious. I put her on the couch."

Bill nodded absentmindedly.

"What the hell happened?" Ron demanded angrily.

"I could relieve her feelings. Everything she'd gone through, I could feel it. It was a nightmare," he babbled, gaze lost in the vague. "And all this time, I knew she was hurting. But I didn't expect it to be so…" tears trailed down his cheeks, his throat felt too tight. "That's…she's safe now. I…" he took a step forward, two, and fell against the wall, unconscious in turn.

 _Ginny watches Natasha wake up confused and ashamed. She and Clint leave the house on a sour note, though Fleur assures them they will always be welcomed at their place. Ginny, who doesn't want to lose another sibling (though she doesn't know her well), asks her if she can visit again soon. Fleur later admits to Bill that Natasha scared her and she wonders what had happened to her to make her react so badly at a little bit of magic. She also says that Natasha makes her uneasy because she feels like she's approaching an empty vortex whenever they stand close. Bill remembers Hemina didn't react to the Dan's 'obliviate' spell but Georges' triggered something, and vows to find out what has happened to her._

 **Auror office**

 _Bill decides to stop by the archives of the ministry to gather more information. As he suspects Hemina was actually kidnapped, he goes to see Dan, the Auror who tried to erase Natasha's memory unsuccessfully._

"I need a favor."

The wizard glanced at him.

"Depends."

"About twenty years back, I need to know if there had been a series of magical children being killed intentionally or not, or reported missing, in England. I need to know if anything had been…going on at the time."

"You're speaking of a time of war Bill; unfortunately magical children died all the time."

"Children from old wizard families then," he amended. "Young children, no over eight."

"Why?"

"It's personal."

"Is this related to the redhead muggle woman you were flirting with a while ago?"

"Not flirting –for god's sake –but –I don't know. Maybe," Bill muttered. "Also, would you mind asking around about the 'Red Room'? It's an underground organization from Russia that might have been involved. Just ask, don't get in too deep. Last I heard, they might still be active."

"Fine," Dan replied with a shrug. "I have a friend who has a friend in the Unspeakable department. I'll write if I find anything."

"Thanks."

 _Barely a week goes before Bill gets a note from his contact. They meet at the Leaky Caldron._

"Your letter sounded urgent," Bill said as he sat at the table. Dan sounded uneasy.

"Where did you hear about the Red Room?"

"I stumbled upon it during some research," he lied. "But I hit a dead end."

The Auror wiped his mouth, a nervous tic he had gathered over the years.

"They're bad news. Very bad news. My contact said they had been operating during the muggle's Second World War back in the ninety fifties for the Russian government, and they had been grooming spies. Their science division involved wizards who might have…" Dan's skin paled suddenly. "Sorry, just reading the report made me sick." Bill swallowed heavily: that didn't sound good. "They used muggles' technologies and combined experimented dark spells on living subjects. They had been trying to build the perfect soldier to counter the same project the American muggle army had developed. Some active reports go back to barely twenty years ago –I can't believe Aurors didn't push harder on that case."

"Are they dismantled?"

"Only the muggle branch survived apparently," Dan went on, still pale. "Can you believe that Grindelwald himself might have participated during the mid-forties? Old notes said he was interested by a project called the 'Black Widow'," Bill felt his blood freeze. "They wanted to build the perfect spy, the perfect witch –powerful and invulnerable;" he paused and swallowed. "It's a good thing they never succeeded. The Russian Ministry of Magic shut the project when peace was signed."

"Yet the muggle branch survived?"

"It's taken care of by some muggle organization. We can't butt in every time muggles have their trouble; we'd be buried under tons of requests." He paused and stared straight in his eyes, suddenly wondering. "That woman, was she one of the children taken?"

But Bill didn't answer. He was too busy trying to assimilate what he had just been told. Natasha had been kidnapped to be a test subject. A test subject driven by madmen, one that should have killed her, but she had survived. She had survived. She had been a powerful witch even at a young age, powerful enough to worry her own parents she might attract Voldemort's attention. Either her power had helped her overcome whatever treatment they had inflicted on her or…or the Red Room had succeeded in creating their powerful witch. Not in the way they might have expected, but they had managed it. They had turned her powers into an unbeatable shield, complete negating spell casting. Cross the past thought; they didn't create a powerful witch, they had created the perfect anti-wizard weapon.

"No," he heard himself saying. "It was a mistake."

The loss of one's magic in exchange of the safety of never being influenced by magic. Was that why she was halfway crossed on the family tree? Did her missing powers made her half dead? He wasn't sure he wanted an answer. No need to let Dan know his memory charm had failed; should he know what Natasha truly was, his sister would most likely end up locked in an Unspeakable cell and interrogated or even worse. He thanked the Auror and walked away. He had a lot to think over.

 **London**

 _Natasha reluctantly returns to England after Bill and Ginny cooed for weeks. Fury the owl is exhausted by the come and goes so she decides to give him a break. Also has a bad feeling in her guts, has been having nightmares two nights in a row. When she arrives at Bill's house though, Fleur is in tears: Bill has been missing for two days and no traces of him have been left. She tells Natasha she and Bill have a link and wonders if she couldn't locate him. Natasha manages by using a crystal that points on a map. Ginny and Harry (who were staying with Fleur while the others were out searching) try to apparate with her to the site, but Harry seems to lose his powers when he tries. Ginny tries and succeed with difficulty, and Natasha thinks that Bill's theory is correct. (Bill has written his supposition after meeting with Dan that she could be immune to magic except to her family's; her powers has been morphed into a 'void' that would nullify spells thrown against her, but her own blood could still reach her)._

 _Natasha sneaks in the apparent abandoned building on her own. Harry and Ginny decide to follow, but trigger protective shields that have been erupted around (since Natasha nullifies magic, they didn't sense her). A_ _group of wizards wearing hooded capes show up and capture Ginny. Harry is left stuck outside the shield. Ginny is brought inside the building by the hooded group and straight to the place they have been keeping Bill._

"Look what we have here!" they said, pushing the teenager inside the cage. Ginny ran to her brother and checked his injuries. The sticky red on his clothes and his paleness of skin suggested blood loss. She wondered briefly how long he had been held inside, and why, just _why_ people couldn't stop their mad race for power. Hadn't they all suffered enough? Couldn't they catch a break for once?

"Nice of you to join the party," Bill said amiably, smiling slightly. Ginny swallowed and touched his shoulder.

"You were hard to find," she said shakily.

Bill kept his eye on the crowd and smiled weakly.

"I'm glad you're here Gin, but I'm not talking to you," he whispered, barely audible. "I'm talking to _her_."

The young woman turned around just in time to see one of the Followers pulling out something black and metallic out of nowhere. Bill's hand suddenly reached out and brought her head against his shoulder, hiding her face in the fabric of his cloth.

"Don't look Gin," he whispered. "She wouldn't want you to."

Muffled sounds – _pow_ , _pow_ –started echoing in the room. Someone screamed. Someone shouted 'Stop him!' and sounds of spells being casted around the room and destroying furniture around them. Ginny had been on the battlefield long enough to recognize the sounds of injured people, or dying ones. When she managed to free herself from her brother's grip, nearly each wizard was down, bodies spread lifelessly on the ground, and a copper-like smell started rising in the room. Standing in the mist of corpses –because Ginny knew what a dead man looked like –stood Natasha wrapped in one of the hooded capes, red hair tied back in a ponytail, a long gun in her left hand, pointed at one last halfway standing Follower. Before Ginny could speak –to stop her, anything –the trigger was pulled and a bullet crossed through and through the masked person who fell limply on the ground.

"I agree, you were hard to find," Natasha said carelessly, walking towards them while putting the guns back into a sort of hostler. Ginny watched with a mix of fascination and horror the complete impassive face of the woman as she stepped over corpses to join them.

Bill chuckled –which made Ginny jump.

"Sorry you had to rescue me," he said quietly. Natasha shrugged.

"It's my job remember?" she shot back, and Bill offered a sad smile. She was about to reach for the key to open the cage when Ginny spotted one of the last Follower slowly rising his wand.

"Watch out!" she shouted at the same time 'Adava Kadevra' was launched.

The wizard's spell hit Natasha before she could even make a move. Ginny froze as she saw the older woman's body jerked forward. She expected her to fall forward and join the others on the ground, but her elder sister merely grabbed her gun from its hiding place and shot the last Follower without a flinch, even after being fully hit by the deadliest spell ever. Ginny could only watch, speechless. Next to her, Bill groaned a little and shut his eyes tight. Natasha ran back to his side and checked his pulse.

"You all right?" Bill asked, trying to lift a heavy lid.

"I'm not the one bleeding all over the place," Natasha replied dryly. "And those bastards did their job well; magic has no effect on me, remember?"

"How come?"

Ginny had blurted the words without thinking.

"Later," Natasha said in a tone that allowed no compromise. "Can you and Willy apparate outside?"

Ginny shook her head.

"This place has anti-apparition wards all over it."

"Then help me carry him outside. It'll be a better place to sew his wounds back."

 _They return to Bill's house –Harry carries Bill while Ginny carries Natasha. Back home, Bill is sent straight to St Mungos and Ginny and Harry agree to keep Natasha's involvement a secret for everyone's safety. Natasha reflects on how her presence in her brother's live might put them in danger. Fleur chides her and tells her how Harry's close ties to Voldemort led to many deaths and he still blames himself. She doesn't let Natasha go until she has a promise to return to visit soon or at least when Bill is better, because otherwise he will come after her and won't give up till he convinces her he won't push her away (he is stubborn like that). Natasha retorts that must be a family trait and leaves after promising._

 **Epilogue**

 _They decide to try to hypnotize Natasha to get her memories back and visit a specialist. Bill and Clint both go with her for moral support._

"Can you tell me where you are Natasha?"

The redhead frowned, whined a little and protested:

"I'm Hemina," she said with a small, childish voice. "Not Natasha."

Next to her, Bill tensed slightly. Clint glanced at him before reporting his attention on the doctor. Said doctor nodded.

"Sorry Hemina," he corrected with the same tender but firm tone. "Can you tell me how old you are?"

"Six," she replied confidently.

"Are you still living with your mommy and daddy?"

"Yeah."

"Do you have any siblings, Hemina?"

"I have my Willy and Charlie." They noted the possessive mark before her twin brother's nickname. Bill nodded, recalling with trembling hands that he was always 'hers'. "And a baby Percy soon."

"Hemina, I need to ask you something. It's about a night you lived through not so long ago." Everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation. "Do you remember when Ellen babysat you? The night Willy heard someone walking in the house?"

Natasha stilled and tensed, her breathing accelerating slightly. Clint tightened his fists.

"It's alright Hemina, you are perfectly safe with me."

"Bad men," she muttered, growing agitated. "Willy was right, they are bad men."

"Calm down Hemina, can you do that for me?"

The redhead shifted on her seat uncomfortably.

"It's dark." She started quietly. "And cold. Willy said he heard people downstairs, but he's too scared to go see by himself. He's always scared when I'm not with him." Bill felt his cheeks flush. "But I'll go, because I'm quiet," she added with the arrogance of the child she was back then. "There are three big men in the staircase, they don't look nice. They don't smell good either…and they're weird."

"How so Hemina?"

"They…I think one of them is a muggle." She seemed hesitant. "He doesn't have a wand, and he's excited about something. I don't know what they say, they made themselves very quiet. Ellen is with them and she looks…weird."

"How so?" he asked encouragingly.

"She's sitting at their feet on the steps and she's not moving." Pause. Her breath got caught in her throat. "They're moving up. They're going to Charlie's room." Her tone turned harder. "I won't let them in."

Natasha fell silent for a while, only breathing hard and determined. The doctor didn't speak for two full minutes and waited. She eventually spoke again:

"People are scared of fire. So I set the last step on fire, before they can come up to the ground. They're surprised," she added with a satisfied smirk as Bill's jaw fell low in shock. "So I grow the fire till they have to back up. It's not normal fire; it's my fire, so when they try to pull it out it won't go down." Her smile widened. "One of them even gets caught and the fire burns him. He looks like he's dancing…" her voice trailed off and she suddenly gasped as her expression turned into one of fear. "They saw me."

The tension in the room raised a notch. Everyone stared at her even more intensely.

"What happens next, Hemina?"

"I try to scream, but they make me quiet too." A silencing spell, Bill thought. No wonder why he didn't hear a thing. "They make me fly to them and they take me with them." Natasha's voice panicked: "The fire is spreading and it's going to Willy's room. I want to warn him but they hit me and I-" she whimpered. "Don't hurt me, please."

Both men turned pale. Clint was holding back strongly and Bill wanted nothing but to hold her. The doctor was about to wake her up, but she went on, plaintive and scared:

"They're big and scary and I don't like them, and they tell me my name is Natasha and that I'm Russian and they take me to this place and it's so dark and it smells like blood all the time and-"

"Hemina," the doctor interrupted firmly, and Natasha yelped,

She opened her eyes, forehead sweating and limbs trembling. Clint reached out for her hand, which she gave, and didn't protest when he pulled her against him and held her tight. Bill's face was as white as a sheet.

"So that's what happened," Natasha said, voice shaking slightly. All traces of her previous fears might have left her face, but her hands were still shaking.

 _Bill comes in terms with the fact he couldn't have done anything to save his sister, and Natasha tells him she's glad she was the stolen one because she doesn't think Bill would have survived the Red Room. Clint leaves them alone to say goodbye –the Avengers are needed in Slovenia._

"But we'll keep contact, right?" Bill insisted. "I'd like to take news from you, from time to time. Percy and Charlie want to meet you too, since they didn't get a chance last time. And Georges wanted to apologize in person. He really regrets having lashed out the way he did. He thought you were going to replace Fred."

Natasha snorted.

"Maybe one day. Don't invite your parents though." He felt a pang in his chest when she said 'your'. Some barriers would be up for some time; he hoped she would allow them to lower in the future. "I'm not…I don't think I will ever forgive them."

"Duly noted," he replied lightly, but seriously. "And I'm serious, do write. Oh, and Ginny might come find you herself for some sisterly advice." He paused and smiled. "You have a new fervent admirer."

"It's all new to me," Natasha said, avoiding his gaze. "How am I supposed to deal with this?

"Up to ten months ago, I thought you had been dead for twenty years. Trust me, this is new for me –for all of them -too," he reminded her gently. "I'm sure you'll do great, so don't worry too much."

"Whatever you say, Willy."


End file.
